Not Really a Tomato Box Fairytale
by SarahTonin
Summary: Considering there aren't really any tomatoes, boxes or fairies. But still, this is a prequel, sequel, and inbetweenquel to the Tomato Box Fairytale series. France loves being a girl about as much as she loves to tease people. Her whole life changes when she goes to tease her new neighbor and something unexpected happens. What the FrUK is she going to do now?
1. The Swamp Ideal

I really love cute things. That being said I really loved me. I looked at myself in the mirror. It was one of my top priorities to look my best. You never know when you're going to meet your special someone.

I flipped out my blonde hair and smoothed my blue dress that happened to perfectly bring out my eyes. God, I looked gorgeous.

"Would you stop being such a girl and fight me already?" Spain called out to me from the shore. She was one of my best friends, but she wasn't anything like I was. She liked to run and fight for no reason, and generally didn't care how she looked.

I sighed. I only fought when it was necessary, but she had been bugging me lately for a practice partner. I didn't blame her really. Despite that we were both girls, we also happened to be some of the strongest nations around. Plus it was too troublesome to ask boys, because they didn't take us seriously. Not that I took them too seriously either. Boys were meant for love, not war.

"All right, who got you mad today?" I said. I set down my mirror and picked up my sword. I would say Spain was a bit stronger than me, but I was smarter. She generally charged straight on with obvious moves, while I was subtler.

We parried and attacked along the shoreline. The waves lapped at our feet. I swung my foot around to knock Spain off her feet. She fell into the water.

"I win again!" I said with a triumphant smile on my face.

Spain hit the water with her fist. "Damn it!" she yelled along with other profanities.

I was pretty pleased with myself. I had proved once again that girls could be girly and tough at the same time.

"So tell me what's up, or I'll make you wear a dress and dance around again," I said.

"Ha! Make me!"

My pleasure. I could feel myself smirking and my eyes squinting a bit. I tackled Spain down into the water and went for her shirt. She looked so pretty when she was in her red dress. I don't know why she hated it so much.

"Hey! Hey! Get off! I'll tell you already!" she said.

She sighed as she sat back up. "You see there's this boy…"

"Mon Dieu, a boy! I didn't think you were interested in boys! What's he like? Is he cute? Spill!" I was excited. Most other boys avoided me because I liked to tease them. It would be a nice change for a new guy.

"He's a jerk, that's what he is! And he's weird, too! All I was minding my own business. Then I came to an island while I was sailing. It wasn't very far, so I was a bit surprised. So I thought I'd explore it just for kicks. It was a pretty dreary place, so I thought I'd just take a quick look around. Then this little boy came running up to me and started yelling at me. Something about trespassing. So I was saying sorry and I stepped back and my foot messed up some drawing in the sand. He got even angrier and started yelling even louder. He called me a stupid girl and that I should just stay at home. So I punched him in the face and got back on my ship."

"Wow, that kid's got guts." I could feel the dreamy look coming over my face. He seemed like a good guy to mess with.

"Oh no, France. I don't think you want to mess with this guy. It's like he's missing a few parts if you know what I mean. I don't think he'd like that."

"Oh please, I'm irresistible. Everyone likes me!" I said. "See you later, Spain!"

I skipped all the way back home. This was going to be fun. Maybe I should give him something to remember me by. A little bunny hopped past me. Perfect! It was a symbol of sex, so it ought to make him feel really awkward. I couldn't wait to get on my ship and get over there.

* * *

Spain wasn't lying when she said it wasn't far away. It was actually just across the way from me. She should have said something about how he would be so convenient to me. I could also see why she said dreary. The sky was covered in dark gray clouds.

"Hello? Anyone here?" I said as I came up on the shore. The little boy wasn't there. I wondered where he could be.

I pet the little bunny in my arms. I guess I'd just have to search for him. The chase might be fun, too. I got off the beach and into the woods.

Everything was covered in green. Not that I minded it. It was better than brown or gray I guess, but it was overkill. I couldn't really tell where I was going anymore. The bunny squirmed out of my arms and hopped through the forest.

"Hey! Wait a minute!" I couldn't let her get away.

As I chased her, I noticed something strange. There were little points of floating lights. They started to stick to me, and I tried to swat them away. I caught the little bunny and found that the lights had gotten on her to. I tried to rub them off, but they just seemed to spread.

The bunny started to wriggle again. The spots where the lights stuck to me started to burn. The pain seared deep down. I wanted it to stop. My tears of pain blinded my eyes. I stumbled around, trying desperately to find a way to put out the fire.

I fell into something cool and wet. It was a relief, but in a way almost as uncomfortable as the fire. I opened my eyes in the green water. The burning stopped, but it still felt like something was terribly wrong.

I took a deep breath as I broke the surface. I remembered the bunny in my hands and lifted them up above the surface. I was surprised by what I saw. The pure white bunny was now slightly green. If I were to be more specific, I would have to say it was a nice mint color. Just how filthy was this water?

The bunny squirmed and flew out of my arms. Flew. The little bunny had sprouted a pair of matching mint colored wings. It almost looked like it stuck its tongue out at me.

"What are you doing out there? Are you a frog or something?" a voice said.

I looked to the shore of this green pond. I almost didn't notice the little boy in the green cloak sitting on the bank.

"How rude! I'm most definitely not a frog. I'm far to gorgeous!" I waded my way to where he was. "I came all this way to visit you, and I'm greeted with that."

"Visit? More like bother. What are you doing here anyway? I don't even know you."

"It's common courtesy. I am your neighbor after all." This little island was just across the way from my home.

Upon closer inspection, he was actually really cute. My favorite type, really. His hair was short and a perfect mess. His eyes were as green as his forest. He looked younger than me, and his giant eyebrows furrowed together.

"Well, that's a lie if I've ever heard one. I'm an island, you nitwit. I have no neighbors."

Oh how feisty! I loved it. He would be so fun to tease.

"Ugh, my clothes are soaked." My dress looked like it would be ruined. Green pond scum simply covered it.

"Why in the world are you in a dress anyway? It's so strange."

"What are you talking about? This makes me look fabulous. Well, not as fabulous right now."

All right. Teasing technique number one: seduction. I started to strip. I couldn't wait to see his face.

I was only disappointed. That was weird. He didn't seem like the type of guy to be unfazed by a naked girl. I guess I wasn't completely naked. I still had my petticoats on, but still. Most guys freaked out if they saw boobs. I guess I'd have to go even further. I loosened the strings on my petticoats.

There was a reaction. He looked flustered and his face went a little red. I was expecting a lot worse, but I had to work with what I had.

"See anything you like?" I said. I waltzed over to him.

"Don't make me puke. Put some damn clothes on all ready. I don't want to see any of that. Go away!"

This was an off day. What was his problem? I looked down to make sure everything was still there. It wasn't. My cute girlish curves were gone. I was completely flat chested, not to mention I had a certain something on my crotch. I had only seen one of these things in the books Grandpa Rome left lying around sometimes.

I couldn't freak out now. If I did that, he would win. I needed to pretend that nothing was wrong.

"A gentleman doesn't strip, nor does he allow such uncouth behavior in his house. If you don't leave soon, I'm going to kick you out."

"I know you like it, but whatever you say. Jealousy isn't too becoming, mon chère." I kissed him on both cheeks like Grandpa had taught me to greet people so long ago. I felt satisfied as his face became completely red, a nice contrast to all the green. Looks like I could still use seduction as a boy. "See you around. Come visit me next time. You won't regret it. Oh, and enjoy the bunny. Just not too much." I winked at him and pranced off into the woods.

The farther away I got, the faster I ran. I tried to hold it in. I was probably one of the best actors in the world.

I got on my boat and sailed back home. I threw myself onto my shore. Tears fell freely from my eyes now. I mourned over what I had lost. I wouldn't be able to be a girl anymore. I really loved being a girl. All of my flirty, sexy dresses wouldn't fit me anymore. Why had fate been so cruel to me?

Stupid boy and his stupid weird green island. I needed to look on the bright side. I still had my gorgeous hair. As far as guys went, I still looked pretty sexy. I wouldn't let this get me down. I was France. I could adapt. If I couldn't be the ideal girl, then I sure as hell would be the ideal man.


	2. A Trio is Born

This was getting to be a bit too over the top, and from me, that was saying something. Spain was literally rolling on the ground laughing.

She collected herself long enough to say, "Sorry, it's just that I didn't think I'd ever see you in a pair of pants! You seriously look like a guy today!"

"It's not funny," I said. "Do you think I want to look like this? Being a guy is so not my style, but it's something I'll just have to deal with this. God, I wish I were a girl again."

Spain's face went serious for a second. "Wait, you're seriously a guy? With a thing and everything?"

I nodded my head gravely.

Spain erupted into laughter once more. I rolled my eyes at her. "Would you calm down? It'll take some getting used to, but we'll just have to manage."

"Hey, do you know what would be really funny?" Spain said. "If we pretended that you were a guy the whole time! I wonder how many people would be so confused."

"It doesn't matter because they'd still be stunned by my beauty regardless."

"Yeah, yeah. Hey! Let's have a race to see which is really better: boy or girl."

Spain immediately got up and started bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. I sighed. Sometimes I wondered how she gets all of that competitive energy.

"Alright, but I'm not going to go easy on you," I said.

She got a kick out of that. "I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Plus if I win, you have to wear that dress."

Spain frowned but nodded her head.

We raced off through the woods. I bobbed and weaved as I tried to avoid the trees. This actually felt pretty good. The wind pulled back at my long hair. My legs could move freer and faster without the restrictive layers of skirts. I was flying ten times faster than I usually did. I laughed to myself as I saw Spain falling further and further behind me.

I must have been looking back too long, because I ran into something. It didn't quite feel like a tree.

"Hey watch where you're going!" the object said.

Spain ran up beside me and touched the tree a bit further ahead. "I win!" she cooed.

The object had turned out to be a person. He rubbed his forehead tenderly as he stared at me.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there," I started to say.

"Hey, are you a boy or a girl?" he said.

It had come to this already. "Is it really so hard to tell?"

"I've had some close encounters. There's only one real way to find out!" His hands reached for my chest. He felt around but found no purchase.

"Well, you could have at least bought me dinner first. Or at least have told me your name. You see, thats usually how things are done, but I kind of like your intrusive style."

"My awesome name is the Teutonic Order. I'm thinking of changing it later to something even more awesome like Prussia or something. You can call me Mr. Awesome, or just plain Prussia."

* * *

"Enchante, my name is France."

"And I'm Spain, but I'm a girl, so you don't need to go feeling me up," Spain added.

Prussia looked her over. "Are you sure? You don't really look like one."

Spain sighed. Her hands went to the top of her shirt. She unfastened the buttons to reveal her bare chest. Prussia's face went bright red. I could feel a smile come across my face.

I got up and went over to where Spain was. I slid my hand to her slim waist through her open shirt. "I knew there was a girl somewhere in there," I said as a bent my face to hers and gave her a light kiss on her cheek.

Spain didn't mind; this was normal for us. Prussia, however, was not. His face went to a deeper shade of red and was trying very hard not to look at us. Spain noticed Prussia's reaction. "Alright, I think that's enough. You don't want to scar the poor kid."

"Are you guys together or something?" Prussia managed to sputter out.

I held Spain closer to me. "We're a little bit more than friends."

"We're like best friends. We've been together for as long as I can remember."

"If you're jealous, there's plenty of me to share," I said as I made my way over to Prussia.

"I can tell that you want to be awesome by becoming friends with the awesome me, but we don't have to be that close. My awesomeness will be too overwhelming for you. Plus you should probably warn me before you touch me, or you might overdose from awesomeness."

"Anyway, since I won, I don't have to wear that dress," Spain said with a smile on her face.

"What does France have to do since he lost?" Prussia inquired. He sounded a bit mischievous.

"Hmmm, I don't know. What do you think?"

I didn't like where this was going. Prussia developed a evil little grin on his face. His red eyes were positively glowing.

"I think I have an idea," he said.

"What did you have in mind?" I said warily.

"Oh, just something to make sure no one confuses you for a woman again."

**AN: Sorry that I took so long and this chapter is kind of short. I've been so unbelievably busy. I'll try to make the next one longer and updated sooner. Thank you for your patience and support.**


	3. Declaration

This really wasn't my style. I twisted my body as I looked in the mirror. I couldn't say it looked bad. It actually looked kind of good on me. I took a deep breath as I prepared to step out of the room.

Spain and Prussia were waiting for me at the table. Both of them had a piece of bread in their hands. Bits of crumbs remained on their faces.

The hallway to where they were was my personal runway. I came out with all the confidence in the world. My hips swung from side to side. The codpiece at my crotch wriggled with my every step.

Spain couldn't help but laugh at the utter ridiculousness of the outfit. Prussia looked a bit disappointed.

"Just as I thought. My idea was pretty awesome. You look pretty good, but not as awesome as me."

"Wow, that's pretty amazing coming from you. Thank you so much!" I said sarcastically.

Prussia nodded knowingly, as if he though I was actually being sincere. He was probably one of those types. He might be one to keep around, for entertainment purposes of course.

"Don't you think it's a bit over the top?" Spain said.

"You see, Spain, there's really no such thing as over the top. Each and every aspect of life should be lived to the fullest. Today just happens to be the day to show off my impressive male anatomy."

"G-gentlemen do not speak of such things in front of ladies!"

It was the little guy in the cloak that I met on the strange island. Spain squinted her eyes, and stared at the little guy.

"Oh, did your mom tell you that? Do you think that girls can't handle themselves?"

"Did she dress you this morning too?" There was only so much I could allow. I let Spain do her thing most of the time, but this guy looked like he had no clue about fashion.

He glared at us."That really wasn't necessary. I don't appreciate that sort of language after I came all the way out here."

"Why did you come all the way out here anyway? Did you really find me that irresistible?"

"I can't believe I have to do this," he muttered to himself. He took Spain's hand in his. "I'm here to formally introduce myself. My name is England."

He brought Spain's fingers to his lips. I could feel my heart pitter patter. It was just a simple little kiss. It was just on her hand, but I felt so immensely jealous. He stepped toward me and I was filled with false anticipation. He took my hand, and my heart nearly leaped put of my chest. He just shook it. No kiss for me I guess. I could feel myself drawing my heart back in.

"You're so stingy. You gave Spain a kiss but not me? If you can actually call that a kiss. You know they named a kiss after me because I got so good at it. I could teach you. If you want." I said this in my usual joking manner, but it seemed like there was something deeper behind it now. Did I really want him to kiss me?

England's face went redder. "I'm not stingy, you're too liberal. You throw around kisses as if they mean nothing. Kisses aren't something that can be shared with just anybody. They're supposed to be with someone you truly care about. Someone who you know deep down you were meant to be together."

Was he talking about love? What wouldn't I understand about that? Lots of people had told me they loved me, and I had told lots of people I loved them. What does love have to do with a kiss? That was just a greeting. But still the thought the kiss could mean something more was sort of romantic.

I broke out of my reverie. "So why did you really come here? I highly doubt you just came to introduce yourself. You could have done that when we came to visit you. What are you really up to?"

He straightened up. "Right, this for your benefit really. In times of war, it's only proper to know the name of your enemy."

I flipped. The point of my sword was pointed at the base of his throat. "You're declaring war? On me of all people? Are you under estimating me? You have no idea how pissed off I am right now. You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, little boy. You'll need to grow another century before you're old enough to challenge me."

He seemed unfazed by the eminent danger. There was no fear in his deep green eyes. A mysterious power drew me in. The force caused me to become completely and utterly lost. This feeling was unfamiliar and strange.

"And aren't you doing the same thing to me? I'm not that much younger than you. You might be bigger and stronger than me, but I've got a power that you could never imagine in your pathetically simple life."

I flicked my sword away. Something about what he said just reminded me of the day. As much as I hate to admit it, I had know idea what he was capable of. I had no idea what he was like, and that disturbed me more than it should. I wanted to hit him and kiss him at the same time. He scrambled back to his feet.

"I shall be sending an official letter of challenge in a few days time. I'll take my leave now." He made an about face and walked away.

As I watched him walk away I could feel all of my anger forcing its way out. I needed to lash out.

* * *

"Wow, that guy was really I unawesome wasn't he? I don't think I've seen anyone who was as mush as a buzz kill as him."

"I don't know about you guys, but I could really use a drink right now," Spain said. She pulled out a few bottles of our favorite wine.

I kissed her on her cheek. "You have no idea how much I love you right now." she opened up one of the bottles and brought it directly to her mouth. She handed me the other one, and I did exactly the same.

Prussia pulled out a few beers of his own and gathered wood that he set ablaze.

"Ah, nothing better than fire and alcohol!"

We drank and laughed the night away. I drank away the bitter-sweet feelings in the rich red wine. In Prussia's words, it was a pretty awesome end to another strange day. Somehow I could feel a new tradition forming.


	4. Tea Before War

I let the heavy chain mail fall over my chest. The weight only reminded me of the missing part of my chest. I tried not to think about it as I pulled my hair back. I ran my fingers through its long soft waves. I usually didn't go head long into a fight like this. I would think it through more. Was it really so wise to fight him like this?

"We're almost ready to go."

My second was my best general. She laced me up into the rest of my armor.

"I love your hair!" she enthused. She braided my hair and tied the end with one of my favorite ribbons. It was light pink and was soft and satiny when I felt it with my fingers. It helped relieve whatever nerves I had.

I was sort of proud by how long my hair had gotten. It went down to about my shoulder blades. The ribbon rested somewhere on my upper back between there and my shoulders.

Usually I would ask Spain to be my second, but she was blowing off some steam and going on one her really long voyages again. I really don't know what else she planned to find out there, but I didn't want to get in the middle of her angry streak. She'd send the inquisition on me.

So my general got on my boat and headed over to England's place. The ride seemed like it took forever, but I knew it was just a little ways away. I blamed the butterflies in my stomach on the choppy waters. There was no way I could be nervous over something as trivial as this.

We saw the white cliffs and landed nearby in a natural harbor. My second helped me drag the boat onto the shore and away from the crashing waves that threatened to drag it away and leave us stranded here.

* * *

I was somewhat familiar with my surroundings now. The place was the same grey and green. Now there was a clear cut path going through the heart of the forest.

I was wary as I went down the trail. I needed to keep an eye out for those little floating lights in case they decided to ambush me again. Who knows what they would do to me this time.

Eventually we came to a large clearing. I vast green lawn laid before a mansion. The path was lined with bushes. Bright red flowers bloomed out of a few of them. Their sweet scent comforted me. I hadn't pinned England as a rose guy. I guess we had one thing in common.

There was a set of stairs leading up to the front door. England was waiting for us at the top. He frowned when he saw us approaching.

"Why in the world would you bring a lady into a fight between men?"

"She is my second. She happens to be the strongest general in my army." Her chest swelled with the words of my praise.

"It's a sad day indeed when the army has to rely on the strength of a woman."

I glared at him. If I wasn't already here to kick his butt, I'd kick his butt.

"I don't see anything wrong with that. Do you?" my second said.

"Of course there is nothing wrong with that. It's just that no one in my country was brought up to be a sexist pig."

It was England's turn to glare at me. "It's not sexism; it's chivalry. Woman shouldn't have to be subjected to such violence. I'm just trying to be considerate."

"There's no need for such. She'd cleanly and thoroughly kick your butt if she had the opportunity. Lucky for you, you'll get your butt kicked by me and not a girl since she is my second. By the way, I noticed you don't have a second, which probably means that you don't have any friends. Male or female."

His red face suggested to me that my had guess had been sadly true.

"A-all that aside, it doesn't cover the fact that the two of you are late. It is nearly tea time, so we'll have to save the fighting until later."

He grabbed my second by the elbow and lead her down another little path. She looked after me longingly. I could tell she felt very awkward by this.

I grabbed her hand. Her arm slipped put of England's clasping elbow. Her chest came to mine and her hands rested on my broad shoulders.

"You'll have to try a lot harder than that to steal a girl away from me." I placed my hand intimately on the small of her back.

My second gave a satisfied sighed. England gave me another glare.

"You're not jealous are you? There's plenty of me to go around. " I reached my hand mockingly out him as well.

His face went red again. "There's no way in hell I'd ever even consider being with you. I'm just shocked by the number of women who throw themselves at you."

"It's called charm, something I am sure you are unfamiliar with."

* * *

Okay, that may have been a bit of lie. His place was very charming. He had a table put up outside that had a tea set on it. A bouquet of flowers was displayed in the middle. More chairs were brought out for my second and me to have a seat. The chairs were spread evenly but my second scooted hers closer to me so that we were nearly sitting completely opposite of England. He didn't say anything, but the tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

The tea was actually pretty good. The warm liquid was soothing to me. There was a stand of various foods on display to eat with the tea. I hadn't seen anything like this before. I took a bite and instantly regretted it. It was worse than bland, it was disgusting. Did he eat stuff like this all the time? I managed to force it down my throat. My stomach felt worse than it had been before. I felt like I was going to throw up. My second had followed my lead and taken a bite out of the weird pastry. Her look of disgust probably reflected mine.

England was staring at us. His eyes were bright and expectant. I could feel all of the blood drain from my face.

"It's poisoned isn't it." I stated solemnly. Through all of my calculating, I should have seen this outcome. My second spit out the food from her mouth, but it was already to late for me. How long until this torture was over? How long did I have left in this world?

England looked positively furious. "How dare you even suggest that sort of thing! The even thought that I would taint the recipe that has been passed down in my family for generations!"

I was a bit relieved, but still sad for him. "Apparently that wasn't the only thing passed down. You all must have had chronically bad taste. Life isn't meant to be lived by a recipe anyway, and I suggest you throw that recipe away."

"Well, what would you know about cooking anyway? Cooking is woman's work. What did you think?" he said pointedly to my second.

"I'm really not much of a cook. I can only really make simple stuff. France is a lot better at it than I am."

I couldn't hold back anymore. I minded my manners and excused myself from the table to puke my guts out. I think it tasted worse going down than coming back. I still needed to get the taste out of my mouth. Then I remembered it.

"My bag!" I said to my second as I rejoined them at the table. She threw my bag to me. I pulled out the bread, wine, and pastries I had been saving for our victory celebration. I drank the wine from one of the empty teacups. Its sweet taste effectively took the taste of England's food from my mouth. My second took a strawberry tart for herself. She had always had a bit of a sweet tooth. She saw England staring at her, so she offered him some of the tart, not like he deserved any bit of it.

He took a bite of it and his nose wrinkled. "It's too sickly sweet."

I rolled my eyes. "Then don't eat a tart!" I surprised myself by offering him a baguette instead. He broke off a piece and put it in his mouth.

"It's got no character," he said this time.

I slammed my hands down on the time. "Those are fighting words! I suppose you think vomit counts as character."

"I do believe tea time is over," England said as he got up from the table.

I stood up and my second followed suit. I followed England as he lead us back into the woods


	5. Love in Violence

"Are you sure this is okay?" my second whispered to me as we got further into the heart of the forest. She clung to my arm. She whipped her head around for me in search of the strange lights. Honestly I wasn't too comfortable with this situation either. I wasn't that familiar with the land, so England was going to have an obvious advantage.

"Don't worry, ma cherie. I could use a handicap."

It sounded like England chuckled to himself ahead of us. Was he going crazy or something? The trees thinned out for a bit and we stopped.

"Just stay safe for me," my second said to me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me on both of my cheeks.

I returned her affections with a kiss on her forehead. She slipped my metal helmet over my forehead and handed me my beloved sword. It was as pristine and perfect as the day it had been forged though it had seen many fights.

I set my stance directly across from England. He looked equally as ready. We stood there for a moment, neither one of us willing to make the first strike. Both of us were looking for the other's weakness. It kind of made me laugh to myself. My strange desire to be closer to England prompted my swift feet to draw near to him to deliver the first strike.

England was barely able to block my blow. Our swords met with a clang. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he resisted my force. He pushed my sword away and swung at me.

The attack was faster than I had anticipated. I was barely able to scoot myself out of the way of the blow. His arm unexpectedly came back and landed on my shoulder. It hurt, but it wasn't strong enough to break anything. It would cause a nasty bruise, though.

England's cockiness was shining through with a small little smile on his smug face. I smiled back. Did he really believe that the first blow would determine the outcome of the battle? My arm twisted around leaving a shallow cut on England's cheek. His smile got wider and his eyes burned brighter.

* * *

This was going to be interesting to say the least. I don't think I ever had a fight as challenging as this. He was about on the same level as me intellectually as well as physically. Some of my best planned strategies fell flat against him. The only real difference between us was experience. I was used to battle and the fatigue it would bring. England looked like he was growing weary. His smiling lips were slightly parted. His breathing was heavier. My eyes stayed on his lips. We were only inches apart from each other. How easy it would be to steal a kiss.

Wait, what was I thinking? This was war. A serious one. I don't think I had ever been this serious in my entire existence and here I was thinking these kinds of thoughts. Does that mean that these thoughts were serious as well? Could I be in love with this jerk?

A blow came to my head with a cruel force. It left my ears ringing and knocked my helmet clean off.

"This isn't the time to get distracted, France. After all, the real fun is only just beginning."

I backed away a few paces to get a better control of myself. I needed to get back to reality. What did it matter if I did happen to slightly love him? There was no way him of all people would want to be with me. Not like this anyway. I'm pretty sure he hated my guts.

"Ah, sorry, mon cher. I couldn't keep my yes off of your face. Your eyebrows really are humongous aren't they."

His face went red. My eyes were still glued to his lips. It looked like he was muttering something to himself.

Suddenly, millions of lights appeared around us. I stiffened as I put up my guard. Would my sword be of any use if they ambushed me again?

However, they looked quite passive. To me anyway. They slowly started to gather and form around England. They gathered closer and closer around him, a hair's breath away from his skin.

"No! Engl-" I started.

England shouted something then in a strange language, and the collective little lights flew straight towards me. I hit the ground to avoid their stream. That was too close.

Something smelled unpleasant. Was something burning?

"France! Your hair!" my second cried out.

My hair was on fire. Without hesitation, I used my sword to cut the braid off at my shoulders. I watched full of grief as my beautiful hair burned away with my favorite ribbon. That was it. My last shred of femininity was gone. I had nothing left. The smoke caused tears to come to my eyes. I hated the way I looked when I cried. It made me seem weak. I was not weak.

I turned back to England with a vengeance. He looked confused. I vaguely wondered if he was more surprised by what he had done or by my reaction. He certainly wasn't expecting my sudden burst of anger.

I was whipping my sword around so fast that it was barely visible. Defending was all England could do. There was simply no opportunity for him to even prepare to attack me. I pushed him farther and farther back. He tripped over a giant root at the edge of the clearing. He couldn't get up in time. My sword pointed down at the base of his neck. This was my victory. There was no way he could deny that.

I flicked my sword away, and he spat in my direction.

"This is far from over, you frog! You're not going to get away!"

I couldn't stay here. There were too many conflicting emotions. I was so infuriated that I knew I would do something stupid. Like kiss him or something.

Still, I couldn't resist myself. I grabbed his chain mail and pulled him up to me. My lips touched his soft cheek. It took all of my control not to reach for more.

"Just watch me," I said against his skin. I wasn't going to let him make me feel this unstable.

* * *

He lay paralyzed on the ground as I walked away. I followed the narrow path I was sure would lead back to the beach. My second trailed behind me, struggling to keep up with my pace.

"France, wait up!" she breathed out.

I only stopped when I came to the lapping waves of the violent straight that separated my home from England's.

"France, I was so worried for you, but you were so wonderful!" Her arms wrapped around my waist. I sighed as I pulled them apart.

She was surprised by my reaction. I had never ever rejected anyone like this.

"France? Why? But I love you so much? Can't I stay with you?"

I looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry, I won't ever be able to return your feeling. I'm not even able to fake it or even give you a shadow of my love."

She looked devastated but nodded her head in understanding. This wasn't some fleeting feeling I could deny any longer. I had fully realized that I loved England. And no longer how infuriating he might be, I would always have the feeling of wanting to be near to him. I could never let her know those pure and honest feelings. It would only bring the pain that I could see reflected in my second's eyes.

"You don't need someone like me anymore then," she said sadly.

I turned back to look at her, but she had already disappeared. Gone forever.


	6. The Future Possibilities

Once I had gotten home I needed to fix my hair. Because it had been braided, my hair wasn't exactly cut equally from my sword. I ended up having to do a sort of layering effect that looked pretty flattering with my face. Though I think I liked it long better. I ran my fingers through my hair. They missed the length as well. I sighed as I wandered around. I didn't realize how far I had gone. The afternoon sun was warm on my face and I was captured by the beautiful scenery.

My mood suddenly turned a lot better as I saw someone waiting by the side of the road. I recognized him almost immediately. I ran up to him and trapped him in a tight hug. This was just what I needed right now.

"What the hell?! Let go of me!"

"Oh, Romano! It feels like I haven't seen you in ages! I've missed you so much! Were you waiting here for me?"

"I don't even know who you are. Why the hell would I wait for a pervert like you?"

"You don't recognize me?" I guess it had been longer than I thought. "It's me! France! Your beautiful older...brother."

I wasn't related him to directly. Romano was one of the Roman Empire's grandchildren. Spain and I had been adopted by Grandpa Rome. Spain hadn't been around much, so I don't even think she remembered much of Romano. She tended to be a bit spacey at times. It was amazing how she could simply forget things.

"France?" Romano contemplated for a bit. He squinted his eyes as he looked at my face. I struck a pose. "The name is a bit too stupid to forget. I might have seen that ugly mug somewhere else as well."

"Oh, Romano, you're so cruel! Didn't Grandpa Rome ever tell you to tell believable lies?"

Romano's face went sour. Well, sourer. He didn't look to happy to begin with.

"I don't even want to talk about that old bastard. He took Veneziano and only left this stupid note."

The note was really just a bunch of scribbles, but I was able to decipher it so it read "Took Veneziano. Be back eventually."

I could see the anxiety that was apparent on Romano's face.

"Don't worry, Romano. Grandpa Rome is basically harmless now. In fact, you're probably in worse jeopardy here with me!"

I quickly scooped him up into my arms and slid my hands up his shirt. My fingers prodded until Romano was laughing hysterically.

"D-d-don't touch me! St-stop it! P-put me down!" he said in between fits of laughter.

Soon I was laughing along with him. I stopped and kissed his soft white exposed tummy.

I watched him as he tried to pull himself back under control. His face was red. He turned toward me and started punching me in the stomach. Not hard mind you. It was actually sort of pathetic in a way. When I was his age, one of my ounces would send a guy to a semi-permanent fetal position. His tiny fists met my abs again and again.

"Romano, be careful! You're going to hurt yourself!"

"Shut up! Don't ever pull something like that ever again, you pervert! And if you ever try to grope Veneziano like that, I'll fucking kill you!"

I smiled at him. He it was adorable how much he cared for Veneziano. " I'm not going to make any promises. You both are just so cute!"

"You wouldn't happen to be talking about me now, would you?"

A big figure approached us from down the path. His broad shoulders had seen many struggles.

"Grandpa Rome!" I enthused. I ran up to him and kissed both of his cheeks. I hadn't seen him in what seemed like forever. Spain and I believed that he would be gone forever, but here he was.

He kissed me, and then went to kiss Romano. Romano didn't return his grandpa's greeting.

"What's the matter, Romano? After I came all this way to see you?"

"Cut the crap, you bastard. Where's Veneziano?

Surprise colored Rome's face. "I almost forgot!" he exclaimed. He had a bag on his back and he set it down. He untied the top to reveal a sleeping Veneziano.

"My cute little grandson got all tired. He looks so adorable when he's asleep, so I decided to carry him like this!"

It may have looked like some sort of child abuse to some people, but it was perfectly normal in our family. Veneziano did look like a perfect angel. His long eye lashes rested on his cheek.

"You've really lost your mind haven't you. That's not my brother. Veneziano's a gi-"

"A going to cry if he heard you say that! Just because he LOOKS girly doesn't mean he's not your brother. You have to look after him so that perverts don't try to take advantage of 'him,' got that?"

There was a moment of silence as Romano tried to process what Grandpa Rome had said. He had a point. Veneziano looked so cute it was almost criminal.

"That's right. If you're not careful I'll snatch him away all to myself!" I scooped up Veneziano and snuggled him close to my face. I wondered how handsome he'd look when he was older.

Romano's face went all red, but he wasn't able to sputter out anything intelligible.

"Right, I think I'll be going now. I'll don't know when I'll be back. Probably never! Remember to have fun and practice safe sex!"

"Will do!" I said. I was used to him leaving us like this.

"Wait, you bastard! You can't leave us here with that pervert!" It was already too late. Grandpa Rome was gone quick as a wink. He left behind his bag with the sleeping Veneziano.

"Don't worry. I'll take really good care of the two of you." I put on the creepiest smile I could muster. It was fun to see Romano squirm.

"Like hell you will!" He grabbed the straps of the bag Veneziano was sleeping in and tried to drag him away back to their home.

* * *

I shook my head and smiled to myself. Romano took me way too seriously. I loved my little brothers, but I was still a little worried about them. I sighed. I guess I really would have to look after them. I didn't want to be dragged in to the responsibility, but I didn't see much of a choice. It might not be so bad though. Veneziano would probably draw me some really cute pictures everyday. He was so sweet. Romano wasn't too bad either.

I walked a little ways back the way I came when I noticed something strange. There was black cloth trying to hide behind a bush.

"Well, look who it is! Were you waiting for me, Holy Rome? I'm all yours now! Just please be gentle."

The little nation scrambled out of the leaves. His face was flushed by the implications of what I just said. Despite his name, he really wasn't related to any of us. He just respected Grandpa Rome for some reason. Who knows, maybe he was a giant pervert too, even at his young age.

"O-of course not! I was waiting for...someone else," he said while staring at the ground, ashamed of having been caught by me.

It was painfully obvious that he had a crush on Veneziano. He always seemed to lurk around whenever Veneziano was around.

"Sorry kid, but if you want Veneziano, you'll have to go through me first."

"Then, I-I challenge you!" he said while clenching his fists.

I was a bit startled. Holy Rome wasn't an idiot. He knew I could beat him to a pulp easily. "What's the point? You're not going to win. You should just give up on Italy."

"I know I'm not that strong yet, but I'm going to challenge you everyday until I can finally beat you. I'll never give up because...because...I really love Veneziano! We were meant to be together, I know it!"

That struck a chord. I was a sucker for words of love. Even at his young age, he seemed so sincere. It was tragic really. He would be so disappointed when he was older. But I was one for living in the moment. He should enjoy this blissful love while he could. However...

"Ugh, you win. I really do believe you love Italy. I can't just hand them over to you, though. You're too young. Tell you what, go find someone close to you who can take care of both Veneziano and Romano."

Holy Rome was startled by my generosity. He wasn't going to let this opportunity go. He nodded fervently and ran across the field. His little hat flew off his head exposing his mess of blonde hair, but he didn't care.

"Austria, I did it!" he shouted out into the air.

* * *

I really was generous. I was sure the Italy brothers would be fine with Austria. He was a bit strict, but maybe that would fix Romano's attitude problem.

I started wandering. Holy Rome's words of love just filled my head with thoughts of England, and that was a very bad thing. I really wish I could chose not to love him. I needed a distraction.

I found myself at Spain's house. I couldn't believe she still wasn't home yet. What could be taking so long?

"France!" I heard my name over the crashing waves. Spain's boat was a ways away from me. Spain was running toward me at top speed.

"There you are, Spain! You just missed it! Grandpa Rome came back and..."

"You won't believe what I just found! There's a whole other world across the ocean!"


	7. Something Old, Something New

**AN: Warning! If you haven't read the other tomato box fairytales, you are going to get really confused. You'll think I've gone insane, which I probably haven't. I guess you don't really have to read them if you don't want to. If you PM me, I can give you a summary of the stories, but where's the fun in that. Please enjoy!**

With a sudden start, I jerked awake. It took me a while to figure out where I was. I groaned to myself. I couldn't get any sleep on this god forsaken prison that disguised itself as a ship. If it wasn't the choppy waves, it was the crew asking me to deal with yet another crisis. I can't believe Spain actually likes to do this.

Still, sailing between worlds was my only time of rest nowadays. This time in limbo was the only place to avoid all of the fighting. At my home, Prussia had pulled Spain and I into his personal vendetta against Austria. Spain didn't seem to mind it as much as I did, but that's what I get when my two best friends were guys. But what was with him lately? He freaked out just because I messed with Romano a little. I mess with everybody, and he knew that. I knew the look in his eyes. If he wasn't careful, people would think he's a pedophile. Not like there was anything wrong with that. I mean, all people do grow up eventually, and Romano was pretty cute. Spain was going to have a hard time though. I don't think Romano was as open to homosexuality.

That word got me thinking. What exactly was my orientation? Girls were natural attracted to me and followed me wherever I went. I told them all beforehand that I wasn't interested and wouldn't be able to show them they love they expected from me. They all thought I was gay. I'm pretty sure my friends thought I was bi. Spain was so used to me being a guy now that I suspect he forgot I was even a girl. Prussia tried hard not to look into my interests and focused mainly on himself.

In truth, I don't really consider myself gay or bi. I accept all forms of love. However, through all my talk of love, I believe I've only been truly in love with one person. I guess that would just make me an Anglophile.

Okay, that might be part of the reason I was caught up in all these wars. I really do hate fighting. It's just that I love England more than I hate fighting. I'd do practically anything to be close to him. That's why I sort of preferred the new world. I could fight with him more intimately. One on one rather than three on two because England insisted on fighting against me and siding with that prick Austria.

* * *

The boat docked on to the shore of the New World. I squinted my eyes as I went above deck. It was quiet. England must not be here yet.

I stretched my legs as I walked along the rocky beach. I went to the nearby river that fed into the ocean.

The snow was just beginning to melt from the grass. It was quite peaceful. I might as well enjoy it while I could.

"Big brother? France, you came back!" came a small voice.

I looked behind me and smiled when I saw the familiar face.

"Canada! I promised you I would be back didn't I? Oh it's good to see you mon cher!"

I scooped him up into my arms and nuzzled my face against his.

"He he! Stop it! Your beard tickles!"

Beard? I brought my hand to my face. Sure enough, the stubble I had developed on the boat was longer and softer now. Well, this definitely wasn't very feminine. Still, it would be troublesome if I had to shave it off all the time. I guess this length wouldn't be too bad, as long as it didn't get too long and disgusting.

I had seen puberty happen to Spain and Prussia. It didn't look pretty. I laughed my head off when Prussia voice started to crack. Spain...actually I didn't remember much about Spain's experience. He just came back from one of his voyages and then boom! He was a man. Just like I was now I guess. I tired to dismiss the thought from my head.

"France, your hair is so soft." Canada's fingers combed through the light curls at the end of my hair. That was something. At least my hair was still like a girls. It had grown out a little bit, but I found that shorter hair was a bit better with all of the fighting.

"Oui! Just like yours!" I sat down and set him on my lap. We had a little tradition every time I came to visit. I would brush back Canada's hair. It always seemed to relax him a bit.

Canada saw his reflection in the clear river and frowned.

"What's wrong? Don't you like it? If you want a different style, you can always tell me."

"It's not that. It's just that I want my hair to look more like yours." He pulled at the single strand that always seemed to curl in the middle of his face.

"Oh, you don't want to be exactly like me! Everybody needs a bit of originality. Something that screams 'I'm Canada!' Your hair is perfect" I kissed him on his cheek.

He turned around and wrapped his little arms around my neck. "Please France! Can't you take me with you next time? I hate it here without you. It feels like I just want to disappear."

He was just so sweet. He was so hurt by my selfishness. I liked being the perfect older brother to him. Would he still admire me if he knew just how insane my life had become?

"Sorry. I can't do that. But, Canada, don't you want to be strong country? You can't do that if you go back with me. There are things that keep you tied here."

My words didn't seem to be getting through to him. It looked like he was even starting to cry. I looked around desperately for an example. I found what I needed camouflaged by the melting snow.

"Look Canada!" I placed the small little white bear into his arms. "This little guy needs you here to take care of him! And in exchange, whenever you miss me here, he'll be here to keep you company!"

Canada sniffled. He wiped the tears from his eyes and stroked the bear's white fur. He seems to smile a bit. I gave a sigh of relief.

"AMERICA!" a voice shouted out.

I could feel my heart beat a bit faster. He was here. I got up and started to go in the direction of the voice.

"Don't go, France. I don't want to see you get hurt." Canada hugged the bear close to his chest.

I could feel the sad little smile on my face. It was too late for such wishful thinking. I gave Canada a swift kiss on his forehead.

"I'll be fine," I assured him.

* * *

It was hard not to find England and America. The two of them together were always so loud. America's face showed childlike joy while England's looked annoyed.

"Having a bit of trouble there? I guess it would be hard for a black sheep to raise a nation."

England whipped around and glared in my direction. "What are you doing here? I really don't need your idiotic babbling right now."

"I came to visit my adorable little brother, Canada. He's so adorable, almost as adorable as you!"

"Hmpf! I feel sorry for any colony raised by you." he dramatically cringed. He had decided to ignore my afterthought. I rolled my eyes. He appeared to be deep in thought. I couldn't help but notice that looked like he had grown up a bit as well. He wasn't quite as tall as me, but he had gained a few inches. His shoulders had gotten broader. They looked so strong.

"I guess there's no helping it. I suppose I can take what's-his-name off your hands...WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU LOOKING AT, YOU BLOODY FROG?!"

He caught me. Manners would have made me look ashamed, but I might as well take this as far as I could. Before he could react, I pressed his body against mine. Everyplace in contact, which was practically everywhere, felt like it was on fire. If I could stay like this, then I wouldn't mind being burnt alive.

"I was just thinking how sexy how you were. Not as sexy as me, but still." With one hand, I gripped his lower back. My other hand went to his face. His skin was still very smooth. With each encounter I had become more and more bold. How long until I could finally take him as mine?

"Get your hands off me or I'll rip that revolting pelt off your face," he sputtered. I cringed at his pointing out my apparent masculinity.

"Hey, England, what does sexy mean?" I had nearly forgot that America was still here. I think I was about his age when I learned.

"Well, you see America, it means that I find England so good looking that it makes me want to..." England finally pushed me off of him then. My speech was interrupted by the blow and my laughter that immediately followed. England's face was priceless.

"You're despicable. Leave before I rearrange your face so that even the whores that you keep company with couldn't stand to be within a mile of you."

I frowned. Oh, so sexy was inappropriate but whore was not? And on what basis did he have the right to call those ladies whores.

"I'm surprised at you! That word is hardly for the likes of gentlemen."

His face went red. He did look a bit ashamed.

"I've done what I've come for, so I think I'll go home. If you want to have even more fun, you know where to find me." I winked at him and followed the coastline back to my ship.

* * *

I looked back when I heard America's laughter. My eyes of course went to England. I was surprised by what I saw. He looked almost happy. He had never shown that face. At that moment I felt immensely jealous of a child.


	8. Sweet Impossibilities

"So, as you can see, I could really use your help on this one. I promise you won't regret it."

When I looked at America, all I could think was uncomfortable. He slid his finger under his neck tie to a loosen it from its death grip. His suit looked stiff, like he had never really worn that suit before. His weight shifted from either leg, never really finding a place. His eyes went from his feet to my face, trying to gauge the reaction to his proposal.

It was almost funny how fast he had grown up. It couldn't have been more than a decade or two when I saw him last, and he was just a snot nosed kid then. Now he was practically an adult, stuck in that awkward teenage phase.

Still, he had brought up a rather perplexing dilemma for me. This was easily one of the hardest decisions I would probably ever have to make.

It really had nothing to do with the points America brought up about independence and freedom or what nonsense. I almost felt sorry for him. He had probably practiced that little speech so much for someone who really couldn't care less. My thoughts were swayed from the moment he said, "I want to break away from England."

I was caught between two very selfish, unwarranted desires. On one hand, I was only too happy to take America away from England. I had seen the look on England's face. How happy he seemed to be. It was breath-taking, only I wanted to be that to him. I wanted so badly to be the one to make him happy that I couldn't stand it when he felt that way with anyone else. Jealousy seemed to warp my mind to believe the worst things, even though I knew them to be impossible. I knew that England didn't feel the way towards America as I wanted him to feel towards me. He couldn't. If he was into guys then there would be no way he could resist me.

Then again, if America left, what would happen to England's smile? It's not like England had many friends to begin with. He probably didn't know how to deal with losing someone so close to him. Too close.

I groaned and massaged my forehead. Why did this have to be so hard? If I actually went through with this and England knew about this, he would hate me. Then again, I guess I didn't have much to lose. He already hated me. That smile...did I really have the confidence that I could bring it back?

I looked at America in the eyes. They were unwavering blue. Did he already anticipate my reaction?

"I'll help you fight off England, but I really hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

America let out his breath and nodded. His resolve seemed much stronger than mine. His future looked so much more promising than mine.

* * *

News came back from over seas. America won his independence. England was defeated. I felt sick to my stomach.

It didn't take as long as I thought for England to find me. It seemed like he came straight from the battle. His red uniform was torn and muddied. His blood hair lay in wet clumps on his face. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were tear stained. He drew no weapon as he approached me. His body came closer and closer to mine. I wanted to wrap my arms around his cold body. I wanted to embrace him until his smiling face returned. How could I have done this? How could I do this to him.

"You son of a bitch," England said. His fist drove into my gut. "You couldn't mind your own bloody business, could you!" His fist connected again and again, each hit getting consecutively weaker and slower. His punches paled in comparison to my heart ripping apart.

"I'm not going to let this happen." His clenched hands rested on my chest. "You're not going to ruin my life again. Not like this." His hands grabbed the front of my shirt and drew me closer to him. "You brought about this catastrophe. You sure as hell going to reverse it. You get that idiot America to abandon that ridiculous notion of freedom and make him realize his life would be so much better if he stayed with me."

I felt no passion for him despite his closeness to me. Okay, maybe I did feel some passion, but I was mostly angry. Really angry.

"Cut the drama and get a grip. You think your life is ruined? Because of me? Ha! You have no idea the shit I've had to deal with because of you. You brought this misery on yourself. Do you honestly believe that people will want to be with you when you're so closed off all the time? You want my advice? Get stupid drunk and let all those pent up feelings out at once. Write a letter or something. You don't even have to send it or anything."

"Th-that's completely and utterly false! I've never heard a greater load of bullocks in my life! And even if it were true, why in the world would I follow that stupid advice of yours."

"Oh, that's right! I almost forgot who I'm talking to! You don't have a single romantic bone in your body, do you? You know what, you keep up with this, you really are going to be alone. In a few millennia, you'll end up like an crazy old cat lady. That's right, a lady. A coward like you has no right to be called a man, let alone a gentleman. See if I care!"

England's face went red with frustration. "You...you frog! I'd rather be alone than a shameless, man-whore like you!" He stomped away angrily.

I laughed to myself. Was that the best he could come up with? He must really be messed up. And I just blew up like that. I should at least be trying to get him to like me.

* * *

I went where I always went when I was upset about anything. I let my toes sink into the cool sand. I closed my eyes and listened to the crashing waves. I sat down, not caring much at the moment that the sand would permeate throughout every inch of my clothing. When I was younger, I came here to wait for Spain. I would count the waves, knowing that one of them might being the one carrying Spain's ship. Now, I wasn't quite sure. I no longer needed to rely on Spain, and Spain didn't go on as many voyages as he used to.

Maybe I was just comforted that geographically, this was the closest I could be to England. But that was stupid. It was stupid to want to be near someone who hated me so much. I sighed and laid back into the sand. Not only would my clothes be damp and sandy, but so would my hair. I still didn't care. I tried to focus on the positive. England had been so close to me today. I guess that was a thought. I fell asleep there, thinking and dreaming of the sweet impossibilities.


	9. Mysterious Love in a Bottle

In the morning, the sunlight shown red through my thin eyelids. I peeled them apart. I felt disgusting. Like a thin later of crust enveloped my entire body. My skin felt like grit from the sand. A piece of seaweed was matted into my hair. With disdain I peeled my crinkled, cold clothes from my body. I slowly waded into the ocean. I let the cool ocean water seep into me. I let the waters envelope around my head. I gasped as I broke the surface and pushed my hair away from my face. It felt so much better already. Though, I wasn't quite ready to join the world again.

I reveled in my aloneness. I dove again and again below the waves. Each time I came up, a new since of euphoria came over me. The world didn't seem as cruel of a place as it did yesterday. I had love, so things would be alright. It was time for me to go back. Something caught my eye as I started to head back to shore. I was farther out than I had realized. Among the glittering jade and sapphire waves was a different sort of light. A sharper, searching light. If it wanted so desperately to be found, I would indulge its desire. I swam a bit farther and came across a amber colored bottle. I looked around. I hadn't seen any ships. Where did this come from?

Upon closer inspection I realized the bottle used to hold rum. British rum. I furrowed by brow. There's only one place, one person who could manage to drink this stuff. England didn't seem the type to carelessly throw bottles into the ocean. Then again, judging from the fact that this bottle no longer had any rum, he had probably been very drunk.

It didn't have any more liquid, but I could tell there was something in there. I brought the intriguing bottle back with me to the beach. I popped the cork and shook out a piece of parchment.

* * *

"I can't believe I'm actually taking that idiot France's advice, but what else can I do. I can't be seen with this sort of thing. I took every precaution. I charted the currents of the waters to make sure this letter, this confession, wouldn't end up in the wrong hands. If my calculating is right, this should end up harmlessly in the middle of the ocean, where it should sink down after a while for no one to read. Well, here it goes:

Every moment of everyday since I met this person I see their face. I close my eyes and can't help but be overcome by the thought of them. And it pisses me off. How can I be so weak as to have my whole life consumed of one person? And by THAT person no less? A person who eats hopeless idiots like me for breakfast. A person who can never realize the depths of my l... my l...my love. There! I said it! Err...wrote it. I have a love that I would love not to have."

* * *

I was speechless. The letter went on to other such drabbles. Poems counting how much and the depth of his love. Stories in which love made or broke lives. I honestly didn't think he had it in him. But, sure enough, his drunk scribbles made my heart race and my face grow hot. At the moment, I didn't even care that his love wasn't directed at me. Most of the poems and stories talked about some beautiful women that wasn't me anymore. The love that England could express was just so beautiful. I wanted more.

I held the paper up to the sunlight. There was something written on the back. I hungrily flipped it over. I almost instantly regretted it. These weren't plans of love. They were plans of war. Scratched in red ink near the top was the word Waterloo.

* * *

My fists were clenched as I stomped to my best friend's house. What was I supposed to do? England's plans were...perfect. Or would be if I didn't already know about them. I shouldn't know about them. If I came to the fight knowing what he had in store, then he would know that I had the love message in a bottle. I could never let him know that. He would shut that love away for a good, and then it could never be mine.

I let myself in. I really didn't understand why Spain didn't lock his door. He was lucky I was such a good friend. I flopped down on the couch. I rested my feet on the coffee table. I had no patience to be polite. I leaned my head back and rested it on the top of the couch. I placed my hand out expectantly. Spain must not be home. If he was, a glass of wine would already be to my lips. God, I hoped he would come home soon.

"I was trying to clean that, you bastard!"

I opened my eyes, startled by the cute familiar voice. I smirked and looked down at the flustered Romano. He looked panicked as I scooped him up into my arms. He wasn't alcohol, but he'd do until Spain got back.

"Fuck, let go of me you pervert!"

"This pretty little dress doesn't suit you, Romano. Let big brother help you out of it!" I teased him, but I still slid my hand under the hem of the shirt that was way too big for him.

"Spain, help me, you bastard!" Romano called out. That was odd. He was usually too proud to scream for help whenever I did this to him. Perhaps I was going a bit far this time.

"Hands off or you'll lose it. Romano is under my protection." Cold, sharp steel pressed at my wrists. For a moment Spain's green eyes were filled with rage. I tensed for a fight. I hadn't seen him this angry since the one time I got him hammered drunk. I had barely escaped with my life. I held my hands out in surrender. Spain remembered his sense and moved his sword away.

"Can't you even control yourself with little boys?" He teased. It was nice to be with my friend again. My partner in crime. My very hot partner and crime. If my heart didn't already belong to England, I could definitely go for my best friend's broad chest and sweet ass.

"This cute little thing was a boy? He's new, when did you get him? I want one of my own. Can I have him?" Romano started to kick me in the shins.

"Austria gave him to me, and No, you can not. Romano's mine. Go find some girl to harass." Spain had a funny look on his face as he looked down at Romano. It made me think that what he had said wasn't entirely teasing. He had the look like one of the girls who followed me around in the bars. The look that I constantly tried to repress when I was with England. This wasn't making me feel better at all.

"Alright, I'll leave, for now. Just remember, your birthday is tomorrow, and we're having a party at your place whether you like it or not."

Spain's eyes furrowed together. Of course I knew that his birthday was in February. We had a certain understanding. If there ever was a time I wanted to get drunk and be with my friends it would be because of Spain's birthday.

"Ugh, not another one. We did this last year." Year after year, I would call for a pity party like this. I almost felt bad about it. Spain was always so busy with the harvest now. But it only an almost.

"Don't ruin the fun for us. Prussia and I will drop by around 7:00. Tout à l'heure!" I still had to tell Prussia. Not that there would be any conflict. He always had a reason to get drunk. Whether it was celebrating how awesome he was or trying to drown his frustration of not getting Hungary to love him. He'd been trying to get her back since the day we met him. Still, it seemed like he had a better chance with her than I did with England. God, Spain had a better chance with Romano than I had with England. I rushed off to Prussia's. I couldn't wait for tomorrow. I needed to get smashed now. I didn't even care if it was only that bitter beer. I just wanted to make this world and all of its troubles disappear.

**AN: Yes, I know the story isn't too happy right now. It probably won't be happy until the end. Still, I'll try to out in as many happy fluffy love parts as I can. I know a few of you will probably ask this question: omg, does England know France is really a girl?! The answer is no. He writes poems and stories about girls just to make himself feel better. It's his creative domain, so don't be too hard on him about it. (Plus if he wrote about a guy, it would be far too obvious ;))**


	10. Of Sonnets and Flying Tomatoes

My head was pounding. My body ached all over. I forced my eyes apart. Prussia was practically hovering over me, trying to hold back his laughter.

"Mmm, good morning beautiful!" I easily reached up and grabbed his face and pulled it to mine. His lips were stiff and cold under mine.

His red eyes went wide. His face was priceless. He shoved me off and punched me where it hurts.

"You're still drunk," he said, wiping my kiss off his lips and gargling back some beer.

"No... actually I'm very much hungover. I probably deserved that." My body curled up in reaction to the low blow. That's when I discovered I was naked except for a few roses to cover my lower parts. Their perfect red petals were crushed and bruised by Prussia's fist.

"Hell yeah you did. Do you have any idea how much you drank last night? We barely made it out of the bar. You striped off your clothes and started making out with absolutely everybody."

I groaned and strained to sit up. "Everyone?"

"EVERYONE. The bartender, the usual girls, the tourists..."

"I didn't sleep with anyone, did I?" I didn't want to hear the answer.

Prussia gave me a strange look. "Surprisingly, no. Even though you were all naked and everything and all the girls were all up on you, you refused every last one of them. You started to mutter some nonsense about a rose smelling like something else would smell the same, which made no sense to me. Then you decorated your junk with them, which was just plain weird. I thought the girls were going to explode with lust. It was insane, man."

I brought my palm to my forehead.

"What's in a name? that which we call a rose  
By any other name would smell as sweet;  
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,  
Retain that dear perfection which he owes"

"Yeah, that. Where did you hear something that girly anyway? It makes me want to puke just listening to you say it."

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"And I really didn't want to be kissed by a dude. Spill or your vital regions are mine."

"Don't tempt me," I said, but I fished through the pile of my clothes for the paper anyway.

I handed my treasure to his eager hands.

Prussia looked it over for a bit and burst out laughing. "Mien Gott, he really is a pansy, isn't he? Ha, I can't wait to see his stupid little face."

"Flip it over," I said solemnly.

Prussia's face went deadly serious when he saw the back. War strategy was his expertise after all. He looked a bit disappointed.

"Okay, maybe he isn't as big of a pansy. But I really don't see what the problem is. Sure, you'd be screwed if this went as planned, but since you know about it, then you won't."

"Nope. I'm screwed, as you say. I shouldn't know about this in the first place."

"So you're just gonna let yourself walk into this trap? You're insane! Why in the world would you want to..."

He saw the miserable look on my face. "Oh right, I forgot you're a sucker for this crap. You're pathetic. Just grab a girl and do her. That's all the romance you really need."

"You're a dick. I can't do that to some random girl. I'm a virgin, you ass hole."

He froze. I guess I had absolutely everyone fooled. "I can't...I can't get him out of my head. Believe me, I've tried. I don't think I'll mind losing a battle or two. But, I'm not going to let myself lose this love."

Prussia fidgeted as the mood became heavier and heavier with the seriousness of our conversation. "As long as we're saying all these confessions and stuff, I might as well tell you. I understand you, in a way. I'm not a homo like you or anything, but I understand about the 'one person' and everything. An awesome girl of course, perfect for the awesome me, even if she doesn't know it yet and is wasting her time with a total douche."

"So, you're basically saying that you're a virgin too because Hungary hasn't slept with you yet?"

"I-I didn't say that!" Prussia face blushed furiously. He didn't say it, but he didn't deny it.

"We're a bunch of losers aren't we."

"A bunch of AWESOME losers!" Prussia agreed.

"I'm pretty sure Spain's a pedo," I added.

"Ha! Figures that every single one of us is messed up."

"That reminds me. What time is it?"

"2 o'clock. Why?"

Damn it, I actually had to,do,something today. I went back to my pile of clothes and pulled them back on. "Come on. It's the pedo's birthday again today and we still haven't gotten him any presents."

* * *

The Rosetta wine wrapped in the brown packaging fit comfortably in my hand. It swung back and forth with my cheery pace. I had just gotten over my hangover and was ready to greet the familiar buzz again. Prussia laughed loudly by me while admiring the life-sized picture of himself.

"It's perfect!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, perfect like the other 50 Spain has."

"Exactly! Spain probably has a whole room dedicated to me by now!" Prussia could be so hilariously self centered optimistic. If Spain had a room, it would probably be for trash.

In my other hand, I carried a beautiful bouquet of red flowers. It reminded me of all the red roses at his house. How it felt to peacefully drink his cup of tea across from me. The way the wind had gently tousled his hair. It was one of the few moments that we had been together without fighting. I was so tired of fighting. I brought the bouquet to my face and breathed in their scent. These weren't roses. Spain's favorite flowers were carnations, not roses. England wasn't the one I would be spending my night with.  
We arrived at Spain's house a little after seven. Spain was talking to Romano behind a closed door. It sounded like he was trying to him to join us for the party.

"You're not jealous, are you Romano? You can't have Spain every night for yourself." I said.

The door suddenly opened and a tomato came flying out. It hit Spain square in the face. The red juices rolled off his cheeks and down his neck. It took all of my control not to laugh at the "birthday boy." His face was too priceless.

"Sh-shut up! I don't care about that tomato-bastard. He can go rot for all I care. Now go away, before I throw another one at you!"

How cute! It looked like Spain's feelings for Romano were reciprocated. I wondered how I could milk this as much as possible before Spain realized what was going on. I figured I had a while. Spain fit his elbow around my neck and dragged me back to the living room where Prussia was. The room was full of Prussia's classic laughter.

"KESESESESESESESESESESESE! Looks like you lost to Romano. You better…ketchup! Kesesese! I'm so awesome…"

I rolled my eyes at Prussia's horrible pun.

"If all you guys are going to do is tease Romano and laugh at me, then you can just celebrate my birthday somewhere else," Spain said, more than slightly annoyed.

"Don't be like that! After we came all the way here and brought you presents?"I placed the wine into Spain's hands. I know he wouldn't be able to avoid the appeal of alcohol.

"Thank you, I guess." Spain allowed.

"Hey, don't forget my gift! It's pretty awesome, just like me. It's awesome cause it is me! I even put some awesome little chicks on it in case it wasn't awesome enough for you. France said I should get you something else. He made me get you this lame bouquet of those flowers you like, you know the red girly ones, but I knew you would like the picture so much more."

Spain sighed. He took the bottle to the kitchen and got down a few wine glasses. He let the wine breath as he washed the tomato off of his face. Prussia found his way to the storage and brought up a few more bottles of wine and some beer for himself. He would drink a glass or two of wine out of courtesy, but he preferred beer much more. That's why Spain always had some in storage for him.

Spain's hair got slightly wet and fell a bit in his face. He was so handsome. And sexy. Why couldn't I fall for someone like him? Spain brought the glass of wine so it barely touched his lips.

"Are we drinking for the same troubles as usual?" he asked before he took a sip. His eyes closed as he enjoyed the pure blissful flavor.

"Always."

* * *

"So then I thought, 'This guy has got to be the biggest pansy in the world!'" Prussia said loudly. The alcohol made him more obnoxious than he already was. His cheeks were slightly pink. So kissable.

"Shhh, quiet Prussia!" I brought my finger to his parted lips. My thumb brushed along the curve of his lower lip. "I'd rather you not tell the whole world."

"If you didn't want anyone else to know, you probably shouldn't have told Prussia," Spain said. His eyes were glued to the paper.

"C'est la vie," I responded. Drinking wine outside was one of the best things in the world. The cool night air teased my hair and pulled at my clothes. The night sky flaunted her beauty for all.

He handed it back to me. "Well, that was something. Do people actually say those sort of things in real life?"

I sighed, relieved to have my precious parchment back. I held it to my heart. "It's so romantic! Have you ever read anything so wonderful in your entire life?"

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways

I love thee farther than the wind can take my sails

A love so red, a tomato pales  
A love to keep and outlast the days..." Spain mused, spinning his own version of one of the written poems.

"And so he confesses! You really do have a thing for Romano, don't you?" Prussia said.

Spain didn't confirm or deny. "He's just so cute! His face looks exactly like a tomato when I tease him. So delicious..."

"Whoa! Save that kind of talk for a bit later!" Prussia said.

"Oh, you know I didn't mean it like that."

"Still, you should be careful," I leaned closer to him. "Or people like me will get a misunderstanding." I kissed his neck. It was just so warm and simply pushed my face away.

"Hey France, could I borrow a couple of your girls tomorrow. I kinda promised Romano I would introduce him to some cute girls."  
I pretended to think about Spain's request. "Hmmm, I don't know how I could possibly part with them. They really mean so much to me." I gave Prussia a knowing look. His face recovered from the scene we had displayed on caught my drift. He had seen enough outcomes between Spain and my bets to see where this was going. He smiled in anticipation. Spain looked bothered.

"I suppose I could, but in exchange, you would have to do THAT," I teased.

* * *

If Spain looked sexy at all he looked ten times sexier in a dress. His face as red from alcohol and embarrassment as he rejoined us outside. The most Prussia could manage was a snicker. Even he had to admit that Spain looked good. I smiled in encouragement. Spain just frowned.

"I hate dresses. Lets just get this over with." He handed his guitar to me and took a few steps back to the open area. He rolled his hands up and set his foot out. He nodded to me.

I strummed the guitar in fast exotic rhythms. Spain followed my every move. He always seemed to lose himself in the music. That's when he really shown. How he ever learned to dance so sexy like a girl is beyond me. Partway through the song Prussia caught my attention and nodded toward the doorway. Romano was standing there, entranced by Spain. I could barely contain myself to keep playing. I only had to hold out until the song was over. Every once in a while you could hear our stifled laughter.

The song ended and Spain paused. He saw Romano staring at him. Romano's face went completely red. Prussia and I burst out laughing at the same time. Romano streamed back into the house.

"Oh, God, he saw me," Spain said.

"Did you see the look on his face? Kesesesesesese! Priceless!"

"Oui Prussia, it was so cute it was hilarious. I don't think you'll have to worry about introducing him to cute girls anymore!" I added.

Romano reappeared then with an arm full of tomatoes. His face was as bright as ever. "Think it's so funny? How about you get a taste of this shit storm coming at you?" Romano lobbed tomatoes at all of us, especially actually hurt quite a lot. Prussia and I took towards the fields.

"That last part, totally not awesome!"

"Oh no! My clothes are ruined." It would take forever to get these stains out of this fabric.

"What now?" Prussia asked.

"We could continue the party at my place?" I offered.

Prussia nodded tiredly, and we made our way back.


	11. Insane Resolution

The party had obviously not continued. I used my hand to shade my eyes from the morning sun gleaming through the windows. Of course I had to pass out on the east side of my living room. I had fallen asleep on my couch. A very soft and tasteful couch I might add. Or it would be if there wasn't a sleeping Prussian sprawled all over it.

Prussia's head rested peacefully on my lap. His drool joined last nights tomato stains. This room was clean. Not a trace of any form of alcohol in sight, which made me conclude that we had not continued to drink early into this morning. We must have had just energy to pull ourselves onto the couch and pass out. Which was probably best for our health, but not for my clothes.

Frustrated, I pushed Prussia's head off me. I felt almost guilty afterwards. He really hadn't done anything wrong. I wasn't as sorry, though, because even as he rolled off the couch and onto the floor, he remained asleep.

As I made my way back to my room, I stripped out of the ruined clothes. I suppose I really didn't need them anymore, but it was a shame to let them go to waste. Maybe I could use their scraps for something else.

To say the least, my closet was huge. It could easily be classified as the largest room in my house. I set my clothes in a pile with others next to the mannequins and other rolls of fabric. Fashion was constantly changing, and I had to keep on top of it.

Over half of my closet were things I couldn't wear. Flowing dresses. Flirting skirts. Tops that emphasized the beautiful curves of a woman's body. These were the clothes I loved to make. The clothes I wanted to wear. These were the clothes that hung idle from every inch of my closet.

I sighed as I ran my fingers over the clothing to the lonely corner dedicated to my men's clothing. They were tasteful of course, but they didn't hold the same luster for me. Still, I did the best with what I had. A crisp white shirt, white pantaloons, a cravat, light blue overcoat, and a dark blue hat to top it all off. I looked immaculate of course, but I much rather be in a light blue high waisted dress. But for my purposes today, this would have to do. It's hard to get a girl to do what you want if you look like them.

* * *

I left Prussia alone in my house. I figured he could find his own way home. I wandered around for a bit. I don't know why, but it never took long for a willing girl to find me. Before long, a set of arms wrapped around my waist from behind.

"There you are! I've been looking for you all over. I've missed you so much," Belgium said in her sweet sexy voice.

I groaned internally. Why of all people did it have to be her? And she was looking for me? She had tried for me numerous times, with of course no avail. Most women would have given up. Suddenly, I remembered something of England's plan.

"You never come around anymore. I'm starting to get lonely," she whined. I was a bit annoyed. I knew what she wanted from me. She was in cahoots with England on this one. I played along with her little game.

"Ah, my sincerest apologies, ma cherie. It's a shame for a pretty girl like you to be lonely." She smiled at me. This was just the beginning of England's trap. Lull me to the side of a woman to trap me. And I would have gone to her side, to discourage her from me.

"If you require the company of a man, I know just the person." I smiled back and pulled her to my front. "You remember Spain, right? Broad shoulders. Green eyes. Wavy brown hair. Killer smile. Sweet ass. You can't miss him. I heard he need the assistance of a beautiful lady like yourself."

She smiled wider. "That sounds an awful lot like a favor. I might just ask for something in return." Her hand laid on my chest.

"And what do you wish? A kiss?" I said. That's what most girls wanted from me.

"For starters, she said slyly." She pulled me down by the lapels of my overcoat to her lips.

They were soft and demanding, asking for more than I would give to her. Still, I offered enough to leave her gasping and breathless.

"I want you. My place. Tomorrow. You'll be there, promise?" she whispered in my ear.

I took her hands in mine as I moved them from my chest. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

She smiled again, thinking I had fallen for her the trap. She seemed some what proud of being able to snag someone like me so easily. I kissed her fingers as we parted ways.

* * *

I was angry with myself. Since when was I the type of person to let myself fall for such an obvious trap? Sure, I didn't want anybody to know, but I was transparent. Did anybody really believe I could fall for this so easily? What kind of country did they think I am?

I took off my clothes as aggressively as I could without harming them. I threw them on a stone on the edge of the beach. I ran across the sand and hit the waves.

I couldn't quite understand why I was here again. What had brought me here. All I knew was that my arms hurt as I slapped them across the surface. My legs tired from trying tho keep the waves from pushing me down. My soaked hair plastered to my face, making it impossible for me to see anything.

My hand hit something cool and smooth. I instantly stopped my struggling. The sea calmed with me. With one hand, I swept the hair out of my face. In my other, I held a caramel colored bottle.

Thunder pealed, and rain started falling from the sky. I quickly swam back to shore. I gathered up my now damp clothes and followed the shore line. I remembered a little cave I used to play in when Spain and I would play hide and go seek. It was smaller than I remembered, but it was big enough for shelter from the now pouring rain. I surprised to find a stack of dry wood inside. I had almost forgotten that Spain and I would dance by the fire whenever it rained on the beach. The light would give us shadow partners on the walls of the cave.

I turned my attention to the bottle. I laughed at myself. My hands were shaking. Really, there was nothing to be worried about. I brushed off the foreign feeling, an uncorked the bottle. I smoothed the scribbled parchment out.

"Sometimes I wonder. Is it all worth it? Keeping this love hidden is like denying a part of myself. It hurts to the point that I can't stand it, yet I keep it chained to myself. I can't release nor can I set it free all by my own will power. And with each passing hour, the feeling grows stronger and stronger. This intense pleasurable fire is burning me at the touch. But, I must endure. I must. I can't stand to think to live any other way. I'm frankly scared to death of relying so heavily on someone else. Too be so vulnerable. I'd rather be hurt and independent and alone than broken and abandoned. This battle is hardly over and far from won."

I closed my eyes and laid on my back. I held the paper to my chest, as close as possible to my racing heart. This feeling was so conflicting. It brought me such comfort to read the raw words written by England, yet such pain. His hopeless love that drove him mad brought me that same madness. It brought me such sadness that he believed his perfect and innocent love would leave him broken. Why couldn't he just love me? My love would embrace him, never abandon. We could be vulnerable together and in that infinitely stronger. Clutching my papers to my heart, listening to the crashing waves and the rain, I fell asleep.

* * *

The fire was out when I awoke. I was curled on my side with the papers at my core. I let them go when I realized I was gripping too tightly. I tried to smooth out their crinkles.

Bumps were raised all over my body. It was cold. I found my clothes and pushed my limbs through them. They were chilled, but at least they were dry. Once I started moving, they would be warm enough. I headed out into the cool morning.

I yawned as my feet crouched the leaves in the wood. It was too early. I wouldn't have woken up this early unless I was really cold. The sun was barely over the horizon. I heard another set of crunching. I looked around to find Holy Rome walking near me. That was rather odd, hardly anyone walked in this woods. I should know, I had made many a drunk treks through these parts. He didn't seem to notice me.

Come on, France. It was my time to shine. I pasted a sly smile on my face. "Oh, mon cher, it's been too long! Let me have a look at you!"

He looked a bit surprised but otherwise didn't react. I knelt down and kissed him on his cheek.

I froze. There was absolutely nothing. As if he was lifeless. I pulled away and strained to keep my smile apparent.

"Why so gloomy? You should be very happy. Living out your wildest dreams with your precious little love. Where is Italy anyway?"

Holy Rome reacted at that. He cringed at the name, and avoided looking at my face. I grabbed his arms and shook him.

"I trusted you! What happened to Italy?" I practically shouted. Were his feelings just shallow? Had he just used Italy for some measly power?had he just used me?

"I-Italy's fine. Perfect, honest. I just...just can't take it anymore. I can't be with her. We can't ...I'm not strong enough to..."

"You coward!" I pushed him down. He grunted as the air left his lungs. I used more strength than I realized. I got up and stepped a few paces back. I needed to get a grip on myself. I could work this out.

"How? I ...I don't understand. You love Italy. Was your love not returned?"

"N-not exactly. I'm pretty sure Italy loves me..." There was fear in Holy Rome's eyes.

"THEN WHY ON EARTH DID YOU LEAVE! God, men are such idiots! You say you love someone, and then you leave them alone like that? How does abandoning equate to love?"

I paced a few steps side to side.

"I..."

"You have ten seconds."

He blinked a few times. His eyes were terrified and confused. "W-what?"

"You have ten seconds to prepare yourself. I spared you one fight, but now, you're going to get it."

"What am I supposed to do?" His whole body was shaking.

"Run."

It took a while for it to register for him. As soon as he got I was serious, he took off. He was surprisingly fast, but I knew that he was no match for me. I had endured so much more than he had.

His adrenaline finally wore down. His legs started to slow. They must be hurting him so much. I had pushed past the pain long ago.

I caught up to him, and knocked him to the ground. I kneed him in the stomach as I brought myself over him before he could react. My hands went to his neck. I wasn't quite sure what I was doing anymore. My eyes were filled with rage and anger and frustration.

"FRANCE! STOP!" A voice shouted out. He was limp under me. My hands froze. What had I done?

Prussia pushed me off of the boy.

"Have you lost your fucking mind? What in the world did he ever do to you?" Prussia's fingers were at his neck. His ear went to his chest.

"I didn't...I don't even know..."

"Bullshit! What the hell do you want me to believe? I know you're not the type of person to do this. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Fine! Maybe I have lost it! Good old France has finally lost his mind. Going out and beating up children and whatnot. Want to join the everyone hates France club? Ok get in line. You can finally see the great France get knocked down everyone can get a piece of France at Waterloo!"

With that. I left them both there. This was getting out of hand. I was getting so tired of violence. Maybe I really did need someone to stop me.


	12. Waterloo

Well, this certainly wasn't Waterloo. I had no idea where I was. After Prussia found me with that kid, I sort of just ran off in a random direction. Now, I couldn't even find my way back. The snow covered up my footprints about as soon as they were made. It was so cold. I hands rubbed up and down my thin sleeves. I didn't think I would need a heavier coat today. Through the white, I could see a figure in the distance. How could that be? Who would ever want to be in a place like this? I blinked my eyes a few times to make sure that my mind wasn't playing tricks on me. Shockingly, the figure had moved closer. I could make out his face now. His presence seemed to bring a certain darkness to the white. His purple eyes seemed to glow. A sinister smile peeped out from behind his white scarf.

The next thing I knew, I was running again. I wouldn't really call it running away, just strategic withdrawal. I'd much rather be beat up by the person who hates me the most at Waterloo than this stranger in the snow.

I didn't really know where I was going, but white changed to green. Green. How much more comforting it was than white. That cold lonely white.

I avoided the houses of everyone I knew. I didn't want to face anyone. I probably looked horrible anyway. Funny, I actually kind of wanted to look nice for this. But if I've learned anything, it's that life hardly ever goes the way you want it. My light blue coat was now muddy. I'm still not quite sure where my hat was. I hadn't showered or shampooed my hair for a few days now. I guess it was sort of ridiculous to look nice before heading out to be beaten to a pulp. Such a waste. But for me, getting beaten to a pulp was a date with my lover. My imaginary lover that is. God, I was getting as ridiculous as him.

I paused when I saw him. I could make out his outline on the coast of Belgium's house. His arms were crossed. He always looked good in that red jacket. Thunder pealed. Fat rain droplets fell on both of us. Maybe now I would have more of an excuse for my look.

"Oh, England! What a pleasant surprise! I came for a cute blonde girl and got you instead. Not much of difference I suppose. I presume you're not a girl, but you could always let me double check," I called out over the storm.

"Get over here, you coward!"

"Oh, England, you bad boy! And here I thought you wanted to fight me again."

"Bloody hell, that's not what I meant. I'm here to fight you! Prepare yourself!"

"Whatever you say, mon cher."

I took one step closer and stopped again. The front of my shirt was cut. A fine red line was forming on my chest. The cause was a hair thin wire stretched across the gap. Several piano wires separated me from England. It was not easy maneuvering through the web. I wasn't as careful as I should have been. I accumulated a few more nicks and cuts on my arms, legs, and face. Despite the stinging pain, I smiled at England. His face was unchanged: stern and staring at me.

If he thought that would intimidate me, he was wrong. I was used to be the center of attention. I took another step and heard the rustling. I close my eyes and invisibly braced myself. I shouldn't know what was coming. For all England thought I knew, it could be an animal. Without hesitation, I took another step forward. I really was a wonderful actor. The flying log hit me on my side, and I went flying. I couldn't even grunt as I hit the ground. The air had already been knocked out of my lungs. I fought back the tears as I gripped the mud to push myself up. There was so much pain, but nothing I couldn't handle. I few broken ribs on my left side. The rain wasn't helping, only making everything so much heavier. My vision was blurred for a bit. I must have hit my head on the ground. I fought back the black trying to let me escape to sleep. Unlike the white, this situation I couldn't run out on. I didn't want to. Sooner or later I was on my feet again. I couldn't afford not to dodge the next few oncoming logs. When I heard them, I barely stepped out of their path. I allowed a few of them to graze my side as I got closer. Only a bit longer.

I was a few feet away when England drew his sword. He shook his head. "I knew you would never be able to resist a challenge. I don't think I've ever met such a complete idiot."

I wiped the blood from my mouth that had run down from one of the cuts on my face. "You call this a challenge? This is like foreplay to me." I drew out my sword and tried to keep my arm steady. England swung at me and hit more sword. I didn't like the way my arm whipped about from his force. How much longer could I keep this up? I didn't have the energy or desire to attack back. It took all I could to keep him from hitting anywhere vital. I hated it. I hated feeling this pathetic. I couldn't stop the tears now. I blinked them away, praying that they would blend in with the rain. Why? Why was I forced to be this weak?

I let out a small cry. My foot was teetering on the edge. I had almost forgot about the pit. The grand finale to this charade of a war. More like a sacrifice. Still if I was going down, I might as well brag him there with me. My wet, muddy hands reached for England, and grabbed his coat. He looked surprised as we fell. I closed my eyes and fell hard on my back.

Okay, now this was the worst pain I had ever felt. Is this what losing felt like? I think I wanted to avoid this as much as possible. I felt a slight pressure on my face. I opened my eyes.

England's forehead rested on mine. His eyes were staring into mine, panicked. His heavy breath mixed with mine. Despite him being practically on top of me, we only touched in one place. His knees and hands barely caught himself above me. That's when I discovered I couldn't move. I wanted so badly to close those few inches. Damn it! Why did such precious pleasure have to follow so much pain.

"It's over," England finally breathed out. His eyes relaxed, which made him slip deeper into mine. It was ridiculous how just one look from him could make me so volunteeringly penetrable. He looked a bit relieved. "It's finally over. I finally won against you."

"Was it worth it? Are you proud to see me like this? Useless and pathetic lying in the mud. Fine! You win! You are better than me! Is that what you want me to say? This was but one battle. One war. You think it's over just because you won?"

"I'm just so tired of fighting you. Always fighting." He groaned a bit as he pushed himself up to stand over me. Our eyes lost that binding contact. He looked back down to me one last time before he pulled himself out of the hole leaving me alone to wallow.

Water gathered around me. It must be a few inches deep by now. Is that why England left? Did he not have the honor to stick around and watch me die? I kept on asking was it worth it. I kept my secret, but I would die because of it. Still, England had been so close. His wet hair had dripped into my face. That comforting green in his eyes numbed my pain. His lips were slightly parted and breathing into me... I should have kissed him.

My eyes whipped open. There's no way I could die yet! I haven't kissed England! I splashed around for a bit, but couldn't bring myself up. I heard another splash that wasn't mine. I looked over to find Prussia with me in the hole. He wasn't England, but he'd do. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up.

"Oh, Prussia, you have no idea how..." I was interrupted by a punch to the face. I slammed into the wall of the pit. I held my jaw with my hand.

"I probably deserved that," I said.

"You sure as fuck did. That was my brother you bastard!"

"Brother?" That little mysterious kid was Prussia's brother?

"Well, sort of. When he woke up, he had no idea who he was, so I sort of adopted him. His name's Germany. Pretty awesome if I do say myself."

That was one thing I didn't have to keep on my chest. "So he's alive."

"Yeah, lucky for you. I'm his big brother now, so I'd probably have to kill you."

"Ha! Good luck with that. Even after all this I'm still alive." As long. I'm still alive, I had a chance. A chance to live a life with England.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Anyway, the awesome me is still mad at you, but still came to awesomely rescue you. It's Spain."

"Spain?" I grew more attentive. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not quite sure. It's got something to do with Romano leaving or something like that."

"You got to help me up, Prussia."

Prussia assessed the seriousness and nodded. He hoisted me up out of the hole. I wanted to rush to Spain's side, but my injuries prevented me. Prussia had to half carry me all the way to Spain's house.

When we got there, Spain was at the table. His eyes were red with tear stains on his face. He had already broken into the wine.

"It was all my fault," he muttered. He looked so broken. All I could do was wrap my arms around him to hold him together. I cried with him. Prussia stood awkwardly at the side not sure what to do.

"Why?" he cried out.

"Most people see me as some sort of expert on love, but I'm not. Far from it. I thought I was, but then I really fell in love. You want to know my advice? This is far from the end. You have so much love to live. We all do. This is far from over. It hurts, I know, but after the pain is a pleasure worth the wait. Romano may have left, but he isn't gone. If you shared a real love, he never will be. We just have to wait."

Spain looked at me. His tired eyes went wide.

"Holy shit, France! You're all beat up! You came all this way like that for me?"

"Totally worth it," I said before I finally let the black in and passed out.

**AN: I totally didn't mean for it to take this long. I got sort of...distracted. I'm seriously not trying to make this a weekly thing. Anywho, there should be maybe one more "sad" chapter. I don't really consider it sad, but some might. It might be the next chapter, or the one after that. The rest should be pretty light hearted. Reviews make me very happy by the way. If you like what I'm doing: review! If you hate what I'm doing: review! I always have room for improvement. If you want something to happen: review! I just might consider it. Or I might reject it, but that doesn't mean I don't love you. I would give you a perfectly valid reason, like contradictions. I'm not going to write anything that contradicts any of the other tomato box fairytale stories. Or contradicts my head for what I think is going to happen. Enjoy! :D**


	13. Unlikely Alliance

It was hard to keep back all of these memories. I turned my old hat in my hand. I hadn't worn it since that time. I thought I had lost it in the madness. I had woken up after that long day in Spain's house. He had my hat for some reason. He told me that Prussia had left it in his house when he brought Germany to Spain's house to figure out what to do.

"Can you believe that Prussia just found that boy in the middle of a field? And he just fell down of all things! Imagine! One moment you're just running around and then bam! You've lost all your memories, and your new big brother is Prussia. I think I feel more sorry for him about the Prussia part."

Prussia had lied for me. He had lied to Spain about what really happened to Germany. This hat was a reminder. A reminder of how lost I had become in trying to figure out my life. It had been years since then. Was I still that lost?

Ever since that day, I hadn't seen much of England. Well, I guess that wasn't quite as true. I did see him. We were neighbors after all. He would give me his classic glare. I would smile and wink at him, maybe even blow him a kiss. Still, nothing extraordinary. To other countries this was perfectly normal. Not to me. I knew him so much better than that. It was like he was really trying to avoid me now. I couldn't really understand what had changed so much. He would travel to the Asian countries sometimes, and I would follow. He would give excuses for running away, and I would throw those same reasons back for following him. Plus, those innocent little Asian countries were so much fun to tease. Once England realized he couldn't avoid me this way, he basically shut himself away, not interacting with anyone.

We hadn't had true contact in a while now. We weren't fighting like we used to, but it seemed like we lost what little intimacy that we had. I only had one thing to keep me tethered to him. Everyday I would go to my northern shore and swim out to sea. Everyday I would hope to find another rum bottle with a note. Every once in a while I would find one or two. I had several books worth of England's love musings. Each one was my absolute favorite. Better than any love story or fairytale ever written. These were the stories of my love's deepest and secret desires. A privilege I had stolen to become the same to me.

There was a knock on the door then. I rolled my eyes. I was fully supportive of Spain and everything, but I really wished he would stop coming to me to whine about Romano. I had enough of my own problems. If he really wanted to patch things up with Romano, he could just go over there and take him. It was obvious that Romano was crazy about him. And better yet, he was all grown up now.

I opened my door, and to my surprise, Italy was standing there. It had been ages since I last seen him. Sure enough, he was all grown up now, too. He looked good, but I wouldn't really call it sexy. He didn't even meet the requirements of the classic handsome. He was just very cute. Maybe I had just become a bit biased in the other departments. He looked a bit wary as he stood in front of me. It didn't look like growing up had toughened him up any.

"Quelle surprise! Hello my little colony…er, I mean my little Italy. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Of course, my little quip had flown over his head. Italy was sweet and cute and everything, but he was a bit dense. Still, dense was adorable.

"I wanted some advice…about love," he said. He fidgeted a bit nervously.

My reputation must precede me. People were so certain that I knew all there was to love. Ha! If I knew everything, England would show up on my doorstep begging for me to have him. And of course I'd accept and we'd make such passionate sweet love. He'd wrap me up in his arms and whisper in my ear. His fingers would slip under my clothes, and we wouldn't be able to hold out to the bedroom...I was getting sidetracked. Besides, I probably knew enough to satisfy Italy. It's not like he could be involved in anything too complicated. I mean, who could say no to that sweet face.

"Ah, l'amour. You've certainly come to the right place. Did some little tart catch your eye?" I winked at him while saying this. I lead him into the house. Italy seemed to relax a bit more when he sat comfortably on my couch.

"Not yet. A long time ago, someone told me they loved me, but I haven't seen them since. Does love have a time limit?"

Oh, shocker. I wonder who that possibly could have been. It was obviously Holy Rome. Well, good for him. At least he was someone who could confess their love properly. He had made a mess of it obviously, but it was out in the open now. I tried to think back to what happened to him. I had a vague feeling I knew what was going on, but my head hurt when I tried to think about it. My mind drew a blank.

"Love is eternal. If they were truthful, I'm sure they still love you." Italy's face brightened at this. It was filled with such hope. "But until they show up again, you can always fool around with someone else," I added with a tease. My fingers traversed up his shoulder.  
The wariness returned. My teasing had closed Italy off again. There was something off, as if he was hiding something.

"Uh, thanks for the advice. See you later!" Italy got up quickly and headed for the door. Looked like I had scared him off.

"Drop by anytime, and Big Brother can teach you even more," I called after him. He shut my front door. It sure took him a while to catch on. It was fun to tease innocent people like him again.

I looked at the clock on the mantle over my fireplace. It was about that time again. I made my way over to my bookshelf and closed my eyes. I let my fingers roam over the volumes of England's letters to sea. I picked one of the middle ones, opened my eyes, and brought it to my place on the couch. I thumbed to a random page of delicate parchment. Everyday I would sit down and read one of the old letters before I went out to search for a new one.

I couldn't help but smile. Of all of England's stories, this was probably his silliest. It was about a princess who reluctantly befriended a frog. All the frog wants is a kiss from the princess, but she resists. In the end, she finally kisses him, and he turns into a handsome prince.

"Shhh, not so loud! Fine I'll tell you something..." The sudden noise made me jump a bit. I shut the book and looked around the room. There weren't any fairies flying around. The voice must be coming from outside. I put the volume away on the shelf. I could only hear the murmurings now, so I made my way to my front door. I cracked it open just a bit.

"Just don't tell France, or I'll give you something worse!" Once I recognized the voice, I opened the door all the way.

"Don't tell me what?" I said and smiled. Italy was now a ways away, but England was just outside my window.

He looked startled at first when I caught him. I leaned against the doorframe in anticipation of more of his excuses. He collected himself and said, "Oh, nothing, just that he prefers my cooking to a frogs any day."

Ha! "You are a terrible liar, black sheep of Europe!" I knew for a fact Italy loved my cooking. We were both raised gourmet. If Italy ever ate England's cooking, I'm pretty sure he'd die.

He frowned and his huge eyebrows knit adorably together. "Do you get some sort of sick joy from picking fights all the time?"

"Oh hon hon, and you weren't coming to pick a fight? Then why were you sitting outside my window spying on me like some creepy stalker?"

He winced at my accurate accusation. "Ugh, I do not want to be called creepy by someone like you. Why would I waste my time spying on you? And if you must know, I came here to present a proposition."

I didn't believe him for one second. "Ah, poor England, just another victim to my irresistible beauty. Better not make a habit of peeping. You never know what you might see." I gave him a wink, and he rolled his eyes. "Well, you might as well come inside. We'll be a lot more comfortable there if we're going to discuss your 'proposition.'"

I stepped back into my house, but left the door open for England. After a moment, he stepped inside as well and closed the door behind him. He pushed some dirt off of his clothes as he looked around my house. I guess this was the first time he had been officially invited inside.

"Looking for something?" I asked him. I came out from the kitchen with a glass full of sweet dark liquid.

"Don't you think it's a bit early to be drinking?" England gave me a disapproving look.  
It was just grape juice. I took a huge gulp just to watch him squirm. "So what? You have a problem? I thought you were here to propose something, not criticize my drinking habits."

"Right." He fidgeted about for a bit. I took another sip of my juice. "I'll get right to it then. I think it would be within our best interests to become allies at this point."

I nearly spit out my juice. I had to set my glass down to relieve myself in a coughing fit.

"Allies? I thought you couldn't stand me." I managed to get out.

"Yeah, well, it's not like I CAN'T stand you. I think I'll be able to find you tolerable with some practice. I just need to find some common interests. I noticed you were reading a book earlier. I also happen to read a lot of books, but I didn't recognize that one. Would you mind telling me what it's about?"

"Ah ha! So you were spying on me!"

England was flustered that I had caught him again. "I-I was not!"

"Oh, really? And how did you know I was reading?"

"I deducted it. You see, you left the book...wait a minute." I smiled. I had already put the book away. I needed him to stop talking about the book or else I'd be in hot water.

"Just tell me the name of the book already!"

"You've probably never heard of it. It's called _Angleterre devrait s'occuper de ses affaires, même s'il est très sexy_."

"England should mind his own business, even if he is...oh come off it!" His face went bright red. "Fine, if you're not going to tell me, then I'll go find it myself." He headed over to the bookshelf. His hand went out to one of my precious books. I didn't know he could speak French.

"I'd be careful if I were you. I keep my porn over there, too.." He froze and shivered for a second.

"So it was porn then?"

"I never said that, but you can think what you want to. Besides, if we're going to be allies, we might as well look at the stuff together," I teased.

"I'd rather not." The look on his said that he'd rather kill himself. So why didn't he just say it? "But, if that's what it takes to make you my ally...I'll suppose I'll consider it."

This was starting to get freaky. This was not the England i knew and loved. I walked over to him and slapped him in the face. He looked stunned. "Ow, What the hell was that for? " he practically screamed. That was so much better, but he didn't hit me back.

"You really want me to be your ally? Fine, I'll do it on a few conditions. Stop trying so hard. I like you a whole lot better when you are your whole disagreeable self. But, if you really want me to like you, a kiss wouldn't hurt," I added with a smirk on my face.

England was speechless. He shook his head, and a soft smile appeared on his face. It left me breathless. His green eyes were entrancing. I brought my face closer to his. Would he really let me do it? My heart was beating so loud.

England's smile morphed into a smirk as he grabbed my hair and drove his knee into my stomach.

I clutched my waist and fell to the floor. I rolled around and laughed uncontrollably. I was just so happy. My England was back!

England laughed a little as well. "You are so strange, you smelly French bastard. I don't know why I want to be an ally with you."

"Oh, you know you can't resist me, black sheep of Europe."

England offered his hand down to me. "Allies?" he asked.

The gesture was sweet and strange, but I'd take what I could get. "Allies," I agreed. I took his hand, and he helped me up. I went farther than he expected. With his hand still clasped in mine, I brought my lips to both of his cheeks. He frowned at me.

"Oh, lighten up, England. We are allies now. It's an Entente Cordiale! Besides, an agreement like this should be sealed with a kiss, non?" I moved in for another one.

He took his hand from mine and pushed me away, but his look was still playful. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

I returned his smile tenfold. "Too late now! You are mine and I am yours. Till death do us part."

England was partway out the door when he looked back and rolled his eyes at me. "Kill me now." He closed the door and was gone.

Despite how much he would deny, England was mine. He was my ally. My sweetest enemy was now my dearest ally. If only he could be mine completely.


	14. Worry and Weakness

There was no honor in this. War was a much different game now. It used to be so simple. You both came up and presented yourself and your values. But here I was, in the midst of this Great War. What was so great about it, I don't know. I was trapped in this light rain underground. My feet were soaked in the mud puddle that was this trench. If England wasn't by my side, I would have gone insane long ago.

It was hard to tell why we were even fighting in the first place. So many complicated relationships dragged us into this mess. Still, I guess it was sort of nice that England and I were fighting with each other rather than against. Nice in a sick, twisted way.

We were huddled up against each other for warmth. It was my shift to stay awake. England's head was against my shoulder. I gently moved his wet hair from his face. To my chagrin, his forehead was hot. Dammit, this wasn't good. If he got sick, we were done for. I looked around the place for a cloth.

England started to stir. He shielded his eyes from the muted, cloudy light of day. "What time is it?" he muttered.

"About a little past ten. You've been asleep for around 6 hours." I winced as I tore away part of the blue fabric. It was already wet, so I didn't need to soak it very long in the mud puddle.

"Shit, I slept too long! You should have woken me up! I guess I'll just take an extra long shift..."

"You...are going back to sleep. I'll finish off this shift." I placed the cloth on his forehead.

"Like hell you will. You only got two hours of sleep last night. Or was it the night before? You're practically dead on your feet."

"Ha! Like you're any better. I can't have you fighting with a fever like that. You'll probably start seeing hallucinations and waste all of our ammo. It's bad enough hearing you rant about your little 'magical friends.'" When we bickered like this, it was easier to ignore the horrors around us.

"Are you implying that I've been lying about them? That I've made them all up? Because I can assure you that they are real, and you're an idiot for thinking otherwise." His hand went to his face and stripped off the cloth. "And what the bloody hell is this?"

"Hey, you put that back on!" I slapped the cloth back into place. "You should be grateful. I ripped up my cloak for you!"

England's eyes roamed and noticed that was indeed a section missing from my uniform.

"Hmm, well good riddance. This is war, and you're wearing a cape! What? Do you think that you're a hero or something? I'm not the crazy one. You're about as delusional as THAT idiot."

Just then, a loud roaring sound was coming straight for us from above.

"DUCK!" England shouted. He pushed me down and used his body to shield mine. For a moment, we clung to each other in pure fear. I had ever heard anything like it.

"What was that! Was it some new type of bomb?" I asked.

"I don't know, but whatever it was, it came from our side."

Our side? I didn't recall any of our technology sounding like that. The noise died down. You never really know how noisy everything was until it was gone. The only thing I could hear was England's and my breathing.

England noticed that to. He also noticed how close we were. He got up so quickly that he tripped and fell into the puddle.

I laughed to myself. "You're still so skittish after all this time? You really are a baby, aren't you."

"Oh, shut up, frog breath." He got up again and peeked out over the trench.

"Oh for the love of...bloody hell!" England climbed out of the trench and into no man's land.

"What is it?" I asked, but England was already gone. I cautiously looked over the trench towards the direction England was headed. I didn't see any enemies. England was standing with his arms crossed across from a man a bit taller than him. The man was standing beside some metal contraption with long plates sticking out from either side. I recognized the laughter. I deemed it safe enough to get out.

"What the hell are you doing here, America?" England scolded. I guess old habits died hard. This was America? It was ridiculous how big and strong he had gotten. America moved his goggles to reveal his bespectacled face.

Yo, England! Sup France! Just thought I'd fly over and get a piece of the action!" America said.

"Do you think this is some sort of game? Go home already."

"How did you get here anyway? Did you hitch a ride from one of England's flying unicorns?" I said. England frowned at me.

"Ha ha! Good one France! But, look check it out! I totally just invented this super awesome plane and..."

"In case, you two idiots haven't noticed, we're in the middle of a war zone! America, you simply don't have enough experience for this. If I were you, I'd get out while you still can."

"I figured, if I can beat England in a fight, I could totally win this fight for you guys, too! I am the hero after all. By the way, who are you fighting?"

England face palmed, and I rolled my eyes. America had no idea how the real world worked. It was no use trying to discourage by this point. I guess this was as good a time as any for him to figure it out.

"His name is Germany. I don't think you've ever met him. He's got a big build, blonde hair, blue eyes. He's had a lot of military experience and doesn't give up very easily," England explained.

"You mean this guy?" America pointed to a man lying a few feet away. Sure enough, Germany was out cold. "You were fighting this guy? I just showed up, punched a guy in the face from pure excitement, and he blacked out. Why did you have so much trouble against him?"

England and I were shocked. Just how strong was America now? He knocked out Germany in one punch? Ugh, he made me feel so old.

"Well, France kept on getting attacked because of his stupid bright colored clothes..."

"At least I have some style! I'd rather wear red and blue than that puke color any day." Yeah, it seemed I'd caught the attention of everyone else but England.

"Well, I'd rather wear puke than be dead! Do you know how many times you would have died if I wasn't here to save your sorry ass?"

"Save me? Ha, you were probably here just to ogle at my well-toned 'sorry ass.'"

"Ha! That's right England! You've been stuck in that trench with France for months, haven't you? Just what were you two doing down there all alone?" America implied with a sly smile on his face.

"Nothing!" England stammered out.

"What are you talking about? We were just sleeping together weren't we? You held me so close on those dark cold nights." I grabbed England then to imply to America what might have happened.

"Shut up!" England tried to push me away.

"Don't ask, don't tell, am I right?" I planted a kiss on his cheek. He finally pushed me away then.

"Maybe I should leave you two alone. Things have gotten a little too gay for me. Later!" America climbed back in his plane and took off.

England punched me in the arm. "What the hell was all that for?" he asked.

"Oh lighten up, England. The war is over after all. Besides, there's no way that America would think that we're actually together. He's not that dumb."

"I wouldn't put it past him," England mused. "It really is over, isn't it."

That's right. I was used to spending every waking moment with England. And just like that, he'd be gone.

England turned to me suddenly and held out his hand for me to shake. "It was adequate to work with you, to say the least. Hopefully, we won't have to do anything like this ever again."

Instead of a handshake, I wrapped my arms around him in an embrace. After an awkward moment, England had returned the hug. We had been through so much over the past few years. I tried to concentrate on the wonderful tingly feeling I felt when his warm arms were wrapped around me. When would I have this opportunity again? Would I ever? I tried to take advantage. I let my hands wander down to his lower back and further.

"Alright, that's enough." England squirmed away.

I had a smile on my face as England walked away towards his home.

"You take care of yourself!" I called after him.

"Yeah, yeah," he answered.

"I'm serious! Drink lots of that stinky hot leaf juice that you like so much!"

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself! I am a grown man after all. And don't you ever describe tea like that ever again!"

"I can't help but worry. I love you to damn much!" I froze. Did I really just say that? Out loud?

England didn't turn back. He kept going. Did he even hear me?

"Whatever, you jerk." He didn't believe me. I don't know what I'd do if he really rejected me. Still, how could I let my control slip like that? Maybe I was getting weaker.

**AN: Finally figured out why the spacing had been really weird for some of the chapters. I had written too much! Figures, the more I write, the harder it is to read. Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, even if it was a little shorter. I really like reviews, you know. Reviews make me so happy! Favorites and following help, too. *wink, wink***


	15. Code for 'I Love You'

We all thought it was the war to end all wars. Boy, was that wrong. More like, the huge war that would cause and even crazier bigger war. Okay, I admit some of that really might have been my fault. I probably shouldn't have pushed all those demands on to Germany. I really didn't have the desire or the room for all those silly cuckoo clocks. I was just so embarrassed for feeling so weak, so I wanted him to look even more pathetic than I did. He was the loser, wasn't he? How was I supposed to know he'd turn all crazy psychopath?

It was driving me crazy. Do you know how ridiculous it is to have to sneak around in your own household? Germany was watching practically my every move, so it was pretty hard to spy on him. England didn't think I could handle it. He had wanted to do the spying in my place. He probably thought he could do better than me, like he was some sort of expert. It was ridiculous for him to think so. I lived right next to Germany, so I'm pretty sure Germany would notice if England came over here every day.

Because of that same reason, I hadn't been in contact with the other Allies in a while. All I could basically do was call to them and speak in a code. The lines may have been tapped, and we couldn't take any chances. I really didn't know much of what their plans were.

I picked up my phone and called the number for today.

"Hello?" Came the hushed voice on the other end.

I smiled. Good, it was England again. I loved it when I called one of his numbers. So much better than calling Russia. Even his voice sounded creepy over the phone.

"Emma! It's been too long! I hope you haven't forgotten me. Who am I kidding, no none can forget the irresistible France!"

"Oh, so you can remember my name, now? And whatever happened to Elise and Erica?" Those had been my other names for England when I called him.

"Don't worry baby, those were so long ago! Ancient history. All I care about is you. How have you been? I heard you got into a sticky situation with Greg recently. Do I need to take care of him for you?" I had been so scared when I heard that Germany had sent an arial attack to England.

"Oh, I'm quite alright. I'm perfectly capable of handling myself you know. It was only a bit of a bother. If he ever comes round again, he's sure to get a piece of my mind."

"And a piece of your purse, I bet," I replied. Of course, England had been alright. I didn't need to be so worried. I had fought him too many times to know that an attack like that wouldn't be able to faze him.

"You know me all too well. But enough about me, how about you? You haven't been seeing anyone besides me have you?"

"Well, Irene and Georgina have been visiting a lot. But rest assured that they've been mostly been keeping to themselves ever since Irene sprained her ankle. Georgina seems highly protective of her. It's almost like they're an item or something, but who am I to judge. As for Janice, you and I both know that she has her hands pretty full dealing with her sister Christina and Amelia." Germany had backed off quite a bit when Italy got hurt, but still, there still seemed something off about him. Japan was basically only here for the training camp, and then he was off fighting China and America. I thought I saw him a few days ago, but I might have been mistaken.

"Still, I don't like the idea of all those girls interested in you."

"Oh Emma, you know you're the only one for me. I can't wait to see you again. The things I would do to you if you were here in my arms where you belong..."

"Ha ha, better save that for later. Bye! I love you!" England hung up.

"Love you more," I said into the dead line. England was miles away now.

I closed my eyes and held the receiver up to my chest. If England was still on the line, he would probably be able to hear my heart beating so rapidly. I loved what ever time I could have with England, but it was never enough. I was always left in a frantic half panic state. Under surveillance, I never had the time to read his letters. I couldn't chance Germany finding them and doing something horrendous like burning them or telling England.

I couldn't take it. Such tremendous loneliness. I was so restless. It wasn't like me to stay all cooped up like this. I needed him. But I knew if I got any more of him, the next time without him would be so much worse. It was a chance I was going to have to take.

I flew all the way out the door, not even bothering to close it. I couldn't afford to be caught. Nothing could slow me down. There was only one, okay maybe two people faster than me. And the Italys were more inclined of running away than toward me. If it was absolutely necessary, I could always hide.

But I wasn't followed. I made it all the way to the northern shore. I paused for a moment to make doubly sure no one was following. I didn't bother to take off my clothes as I dove into the ocean. The clothes were heavy, and the salt water was freezing, but I pushed forward. I promised myself it wouldn't be long. I didn't need much. Just one little simple rum bottle. I just needed it today of all days. It would hold me until the next time. I swam all over the place, searching diligently. There was nothing. My eyes stung and teared as I went down and searched again and again. It was no use. There was nothing to find out here, and I was so weary. What was the point of looking anymore?

I let the waves carry my body back to shore. I didn't know if I could move. I made it back to the sand. I dragged myself far enough away so that the waves wouldn't lap into my mouth. Everything was so sore. After all these years, was it even worth it anymore? Should I just give it up? Finally give him up?

* * *

I heard voices, but not even that could bother me to move. Germany and his troops must have caught up to me.

"France!" I thought that there wouldn't be any voice to get me to me. It had to be his. It only could be his. I turned my head and opened my eyes to see England running toward me.

I don't know where I got the strength. I was on my feet and stumbling toward him. I fell into his arms. His strong arms held me close through my soaked clothes. My arms strived to hold me up to him. I didn't want a single inch to separate us any more. My eyes hurt as they tried to cry from happiness.

"Damn it! Are you some sort of idiot? How in the world did you end up like this?..." England muttered into the curve of my neck. His warm breath sent shivers down my spine and made my hair stand on end.

I wasn't really paying much attention to what he was saying. I was too busy attempting to shower his cheeks and forehead with my pitifully weak kisses.

"Oy, cut it out! Stop it!" England said, just now trying to keep his head out of my reach.

"Ahem, maybe I should leave you two...alone," America suggested with a teasing grin on his face.

"That is quite enough." England threw his arms away from me as if he had been electrified. He pryed my arms away from his neck. Without his support, I collapsed back onto the sand. That was a bit mean and now my butt was sore, but England was here. I had no reason to be sad.

I looked over over to America and was seeing double.

"Canada!" I exclaimed. With my strength renewed, I went to embrace the America mirage that was my precious Canada. I showered his face with kisses as I had done with England.

"What the... When did he get here?" America said, surprised.

"Has he been there the whole time?" England asked, trying to wipe his face free from my kisses.

I ignored their obviously rude comments. "Canada, what are you doing here? Your cute little face is all scratched up."

"Well, when I heard that England and America were going to invade to set you free, I couldn't just sit around and do nothing. I wanted to help out if just for a little bit," Canada whispered, his cheeks were slightly flushed.

America held his hands out in front of him. They were cut and battered. A bandage was stained red and wrapped around his arm. His glasses had a crack in them. "I know I'm like your hero and everything, but there's really no need to hug me or kiss me or anything like that fruity French stuff."

Despite his objection, I managed to land a single kiss on his cheek. He cringed at the touch. I looked to England. He was definitely the worst. His clothes were battered almost as bad as mine. The suggestion of major bruising crept out from his shirt collar. His uniform had tears in several places revealing several abrasions. I punched him in the arm.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?" he said rubbing his arm.

"You told me you were fine!" I shouted at him.

"I am fine! And what about you? You look a whole lot worse than I do! You're not even wearing your stupid red and blue uniform. I had no idea what you were going through. You just kept on sputtering some absurd gossip of Italy and Germany and Italy getting together. You might dress seriously, but there's obviously something wrong with your head. Were they torturing you or something? Trying to drown you I bet, based on your current condition." He prattled on and on. I rolled my eyes at him. He obviously couldn't understand anything.

"Hey, it's common courtesy to look at someone when they're talking to you!" England interrupted my reverie.

"It's also a common courtesy to not sound like a complete idiot. I risked my life getting you that information, yet you treat it like it's complete trash!"

"I am not an idiot! Here I was concerned that you were being tortured or something, and you go off doing something completely useless..."

* * *

"Well, at least they'll both be back to normal now," Canada said softly to America.

"Yeah, I just wish they'd get it over with already. All of this sexual tension is making me sick," America said. They both left England band France to settle their trivial problems on the Normandy beach.


	16. Post-Wedding Depression

"Almost done," I said through some pins. I was making some last minute adjustments on Italy's dress. Yeah, you read right. Dress. Shocker isn't it. You should have seen my face when I learned that Italy was actually a girl.

When I saw Italy looking at lingerie in one of my little boutiques, I thought he/she was just looking for some sort of present. He looked really weird. Like his clothes had somehow all gotten bigger over night. I was only trying to help, and she/he was getting all defensive.

Then, out of nowhere Germany shows up, and he was overly defensive as well. And then bam! Italy had curves. Like super sexy curves. No wonder Germany couldn't keep his hands off of them. Her clothes had been covering them up before. I remember wishing that I had known that she was a girl before. It would have been so much fun dressing her up.

And if that surprise wasn't bad enough, I suddenly got a bad case of the unsuppressed memories. All those years ago, I thought I had killed Holy Rome. I thought it was weird that he would disappear like that. I guess it was no coincidence now that Germany showed up at that time. It kind of makes me feel like an idiot not figuring it out sooner.

And here I was, dressing up Italy like that all the years that I missed out on. And she was getting married of all things! Married! Italy was the first to wear one of my designs and it was a wedding dress!

I finished up the hem on the long white skirt. As far as wedding dresses went, this one wasn't very complicated. There was just a little embroidery work on the bodice which hugged her perfect curves flawlessly.

"Ready?" She smiled brightly and tried to twist around to get a better look.

"Hold on a second!" I smoothed out my work and stepped back a bit. I nodded in approval of the overall work.

"Wow, France! It looks amazing!" Italy enthused. She looked at her bridal figure in the mirror.

"Of course it does. And of course you look stunning as well," I said.

"Really?" Italy backed to me. She was positively glowing.

"Germany is a lucky man. I feel like stealing you away right now." I wrapped my arms around her tiny waist and squeezed her right to me. I gave her cheek a long kiss. I chuckled to myself. I wonder what the reaction would be if I left a mark on the bride.  
Italy placed her hands on me only to try to push me away. A blush touched her cheeks. How sweet. She was still so innocent.

"You probably shouldn't. Germany would kill you. He'd probably even be very upset if he found out about this," Italy tried to persuade me.

There was a knock on the door then.

"Sorellina, are you decent? Do you mind if I talk to you for a bit?" said the voice from behind the door.

"That's Romano," Italy whispered obviously.

I kissed Italy twice more swiftly on each cheek. I unleashed her from my grasp and escaped through the side door. I really didn't want to deal with Romano drama. I tried my best to keep out of Romano's line of sight as I slipped past him.

"And don't you look suspicious sneaking away from the room of the bride," a friendly voice said to me. Spain had finally made it to the wedding. He was looking pretty sexy in his black suit but with a splash of red in his silk shirt. Very nice touch. Very much Spain.

"You know there's no way I could resist," I teased. Spain rolled his eyes at me.

"Come on. We should probably sit down before you run off with the groom as well." I linked my arm with Spain, and we entered the church.

* * *

Italy transformed into a freer dress for the reception. Of course it was one of my designs, and of course was perfect for her. But I couldn't help but have a bit of the wedding blues. Italy and Germany were just a bunch of kids but they were already happily married. It didn't help that I practically had to babysit Prussia. He could handle it less than I could. He already embarrassed his brother plenty tonight.

I probably only got one glass of champagne at the reception. Most of the lonely girls dragged me out to the dance floor. I tried to keep an eye out for England, but he stayed pretty elusive. Spain and Prussia turned down the girls that asked them, which left more demanding for me. It's not like I could say when they were as lonely as I was tonight.

Things got pretty interesting at the bouquet toss. Who would have guessed that Spain would be the one to get it? And then Romano caught the garter belt. Romano seemed reluctant, but they were forced to share the last dance together. Spain face was filled with such hope then. I don't think he had officially seen Romano since the day Romano ran away. This would be a rare opportunity for him. Still, it was pretty ridiculous to watch them dance. Even though Romano was a bit smaller than Spain, he took the lead and went whirling around the room. It was even funnier because they were pretty good. That was an understatement considering Spain's dancing.

The song ended and the whole room was cracking up. Romano dropped Spain like a hot potato, which only made the room laugh harder. He left the place without even looking back.

Spain got up slowly, rubbing his back side. His eyes teared up with pain and hurt pride.

"I think I need a drink," he practically whimpered. It wasn't exactly the best reunion.

"I think we need several," I agreed. We grabbed Prussia, who was pleading after Hungary, and headed out to our favorite bar.

* * *

The night consisted of a lot of drinking and a lot of whining. Spain was taking it especially hard.

"Damn it, he looked so sexy in that tuxedo! Did you see him? Di-did you see him, Flance? I mean as a kid he was so cute, you know? But now Romano's soooooooooo hot." He was pretty smashed. I don't think I had seen him this drunk in a long time.

"Yes, I did see him, but I think you might be a bit drunk," I drawled. I was pretty drunk as well. I was somewhere on the edge of remembrance and a drunken memory wipe.

"I *hic* didn't know your swing door swung that way, Spain." Prussia said. Obviously, he was already past that point. Of course Spain loved Romano. He always had.

"Yep, I looooooooooooooove men! I have for as long as I can remember. You knew that at one point, but you…you must have forgotten. I especially love Romano. He's just so yummy… like a …tomato!" Spain threw back the rest of his wine. "Another!" he ordered.

"Do you find us attractive?" Prussia and I struck a pose together. At least that lifted his spirits a little bit.

"Ha ha! Not in that way. You don't need to be jealous; I love you guys to in totally a different way. You're my best friends." Spain hooked his elbows around our necks and started crying. He really was all over the map.

"I miss him so much. Why did he have to leave? I want him so badly!"

"Y-you know what I would do? I would invade his vital regions and be done with it. It will make you feel a lot better," Prussia drawled.

"He cant do that! Do you have a romantic bone in your body? Obviously Spain should proclaim his love to him and then do %^&^% and %^&(&^% and then &*(%%& until he's begging for more!" I said. Was that too much? It was hard to filter through all of this alcohol. Spain and Prussia were giving me a strange look.

"You're kind of sick, dude," Prussia said and returned to his beer.

"What? It's what I would do. In fact, if you don't get on that soon, I might just," I continued.

"Don't you dare." No surprise another Spanish mood swing. He looked rather angry. The bartender brought the swords we kept here for occasions just like this.

"Just don't break anything this time," he grumbled.

Spain grabbed a sword and got into his familiar stance. "En garde, you frog," he declared.

I was almost giddy with anticipation. It had been ages since Spain and I had had a proper sword fight. It was great. Eventually, Spain knocked me to the ground.

"I win! As punishment, you must…eat England's cooking!" he said joyfully.  
"You're evil!" I said, but I was still laughing.

"I'm just kidding, I don't want you to die!" Spain laughed back.

"Oh good, I'm too gorgeous to die!" I managed to pick myself back up and we returned to our seats.

"I know what you mean with the troubles with love," Prussia said. "I know! Surprising! The awesome me doesn't have my way all the time. Hungary knows how much I like her, but she's still with that damn pussy Austria. But you know, I could just go over there and steal her away. Instead, I want her to realize on her own how much she loves me on her own. So I just put myself in her life in any way that I can. If she sees me as an enemy then so be it. That's better than nothing at all. Don't give up on Romano. He'll come around eventually, I think. You're too awesome to pass up, considering you're my friend and all," Prussia said. I noticed a large potion of his beer was gone again.

Spain seemed touched by Prussia's words. He gave Prussia a hug. Prussia squirmed under his touch. "Aw, Prussia. I love you!"

"No homo!"

"No homo," Spain agreed, but proceeded to kiss his cheek anyway. He rubbed it off with disgust.

"I will NEVER understand you Latin based countries and your kissing," he said grumpily.

"Oh Prussia, you simply can't resist our charm," I said. I suggestively ran my hands up his leg and on his chest.

"Get off me you pervert!" Prussia shouted.

"Did you see the way he danced with me?" Spain said whimsically. He really was out of it. Usually he would reprimand me for teasing Prussia a bit too much.

"Yep, it looked pretty gay," Prussia commented, apparently over my violation.

"It was so wonderful. We were swirling around the room. It was magical. It made me feel like a girl again! Oh how I wish I were a girl," Spain continued.

At the moment, I kind of wondered why he referred to himself as a girl in the past. But, I moved on and continued my teasing. "You'd make a pretty sexy girl."

"Ha! In your dreams! If I were a girl, I would be all over Romano. He wouldn't know what hit him. God, I miss him so much. I'm just to scared to tell him. It'll only make him hate me more. He blames everything on me, and it's so not fair. All I've done is love him, and I've unintentionally hurt him, but I hurt so much more. The house has been so empty without him. I miss the way he would wake me up every morning. I miss the way he tried so hard to learn Spanish for me, but sucked at it anyway. Well, I guess he learned it for cute girls. Hell, I even miss the way he would cuss with every sentence he said. I miss his constant insecurity. All of his flaws made me love him more. But, most of all, I miss the way he looked when I embarrassed him. He would blush so much; he looked like the tomatoes he loved. The tomatoes that made him smile. But I know he will probably never think of me that way."

"Would you please stop talking like I'm not even here? Damn, you guys are noisy," a voice said. I had been wondering when Romano would finally step in. I sat back and sipped my wine as I watched it all play out. Spain pushed Romano to the ground and held him there. They argued a bit more, but Romano finally gave in. He kissed Spain, and something odd happened.

Spain started to emit a strange red light, and his body morphed into that of a girl. I nearly choked on my wine. Prussia looked about as shocked as I did. He barely caught himself before he fell off of his bar stool. I can't believe we had forgotten that Spain was a girl.

After a moment of shock, Romano got back to kissing Spain, only a whole lot more intensely. He didn't seem very phased from Spain's sudden sex change.

It was beginning to get a little hot. I was all for signs of affection, but this was starting to get a little ridiculous. Finally, Romano grabbed Spain and carried her off. Probably to continue where they left off, but with less company.

"Well, that was...odd," Prussia finally managed to say.

"Yeah," I said simply.

"I think I need to stop. I've had enough for tonight. Things are getting a bit too strange for me." Prussia stumbled to his feet and managed to walk to the door. "See you later!" he called back to me.

I just waved him away. Things were just too extraordinary for me to move just yet. I wanted to stay, but it just seemed a bit too pathetic to stay drinking by myself. Especially after a wedding.

I wasn't alone for long though. Somebody smelling strongly of rum sat down on the stool next to mine. He had obviously been drinking somewhere before here. There was something else mixed in with the smell of rum. Was it tea? And something like parchment and ink?

I finally turned my head to look, and sure enough it was him. England had come to join me on this night of love and lovers.


	17. One Night of Drunken Bliss

"That was probably the most pathetic thing I have ever seen," England said slurred. He motioned for the bartender to bring him a bottle of rum.

"Just because you avoid anything having to do with feelings like the plague doesn't mean that you have to look down on people who are actually living and loving."

"What? What are you talking about? Oh, no! That was wrong! That...thing between...who was that? Spain and Romano? Well, that was sickening and entirely inappropriate for such a public, but that wasn't what I was referring to. That sword fight was probably the worst form I had ever seen. I don't think I had ever seen you look that weak."

I was a little miffed at his remark. Sure, I hadn't been winning a lot recently, but I never liked to think of myself as weak.

"O-of course I let Spain win. Just to make him...her feel better."

"Yeah, just keep telling yourself that. I'm sure it will change everything."

The bartender came back with a bottle of rum and placed it in front of England. He turned to me. "You keep on eye on him."

"Of course I will!" I said a bit too cheerfully.

"I don't want any more funny business."

"Funny business? Me? You can't possibly think..." The look on his face cut my teasing short. I waved him off. "Alright, alright."

I looked back to England. A fourth of the rum bottle was already gone. Damn, that was quick. And I was supposed to keep an eye on him. He had gotten out a large piece of yellowish parchment and was scratching at it furiously with a quill pen. Honestly, he was so old fashioned. He even had his ink pot set up on the bar. What could possible be so important that he had to do his work in a bar? While he was drunk...wait, this. Was getting rather fishy. I peeked over his shoulder to see if I could catch any of what he was writing.

England peeked at me peeping and started, nearly falling off his barstool. He clutched the paper to his chest, wrinkling the paper in his tight grasp. "Gah! What are you still doing here?"

"Do you have short term memory or something? You're the one who sat next to me. What are you writing anyway?"

"Th-that's certainly none of you business. There's no way in hell I'd ever tell you. So keep your wimpy wine loving nose out of it."

I narrowed my eyes. "What does loving wine have to do with anything?"

"I'm just implying that real men drink something a bit stronger than that weak rubbish."

I knew he was trying to distract me, and it was working. I grabbed my empty wine glass and filled it with the rum. I flicked it back and tried my hardest to not think of the taste. Oh, this was horrible. My throat burned, and I squeezed my eyes together.

"There? Are you satisfied?" I managed to croak out, not unlike a frog.

"Very. I'm actually sort of impressed. Didn't think you had it in you. Guess you're a bit more manly than you show."

"Ha! Manliness? Is that was what that disgusting taste was? This was no problem for someone like me. I've been drinking alcohol since before you were even born. I was practically weaned in it. Besides, I'd rather be pinned as feminine if I prefer to enjoy life with a better flavor."

"There! Right there!" England pointed at me with the parchment still clenched in his hand. "That's what so bloody irritating about you! You go around sputtering nonsense like that and...and give everyone the wrong idea! I'm sick and tired of it!"

"Wrong idea?" The strange alcohol was doing strange things to my head. I clutched the front of his shirt. "I have always been honest. You're the one who's so irritating. You keep everything so hidden and secret, that you can't even understand yourself or what you're feeling!"

"Get your hand off me, you dirty frog!" England pushed my hand away. My empty palm was stained black. We both stared at it, trying to comprehend what could have happened. I looked back to England's slightly open shirt. I snickered to myself. England followed my gaze. His shirt was black as well. Smeared inky words were transferred on to his white shirt.

Neither of us could stifle the laughter. Partly from the situation, partly from the alcohol buzz. I had to lean across the bar counter to keep myself from falling over. England laughed into the rum bottle. He lifted it back and swallowed a few gulps. He stuck out his tongue to catch the last few drops. I must have drunk more than I realized. No wonder he was so impressed. I would probably regret that later. England sighed and placed the bottle back on the bar. He rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes.

I couldn't help but stare. He was just so beautiful. "Hey, England?"

"Hmm?" he sounded without opening his eyes.

"Let's get married."

His eyes squeezed tighter. His eyebrows furrowed together. He was trying to search his mind for some sort of explanation. I really didn't need a reason. Marriage only seemed natural for loving him this much. I wouldn't trade any moment with England for anything in the world.

"I don't understand. Do you want my resources are something?"

"That's one way of putting it, I suppose," I murmured.

"Well, you can forget about it. There's no way in hell I'd marry you." I expected this response, but it was still devastating. "I am NOT going to get dragged into that Suez situation."

"What?" He was making about as much sense as I was. He always had to twist things around. Did he really think I only wanted to marry him so he could fund the canal project? "Ugh, you really are clueless," I groaned.

"Clueless? You know who's clueless? This bartender. I asked for a bottle of rum, and he gives me an empty one. A bit too cheeky for my taste." He held up the bottle for emphasis.

"That's odd. He usually isn't like that."

"I think we could wait on people a whole lot better than the staff here."

I nodded in agreement. "You know what? We probably could."

He carefully slipped the parchment into the empty bottle and place it in his coat pocket. I suddenly realized. there could only be one thing that England could have written on that paper now. Why didn't I just grab it when I had the chance? England's face lit up in a smile. "Watch this!"

He whipped out his hands and shook them a bit. His face scrunched up with concentration. Suddenly his hands were starting to glow with a bright white light. When the light was nearly unbearable, he directed it at himself. He was surrounded by the light and was completely changed.

"What kind of look is that?" I was astounded. The only thing he seemed to be wearing was a collar, cuffs, a black tie, and a small black apron.

His hands went to his throat and adjusted his bow tie. "I wear bow ties now. Bow ties are cool. And are you blind? I'm obviously a butler."

"Not that I mind, but I think you're missing a few things." Like that jacket that held the bottle with my letter. I wrapped my arms around him and placed my hands on his lower back. My hands slid down past the tie of the apron. He really wasn't wearing anything else underneath. Maybe I should drink rum more often if it was going to bring my dreams to reality like this.

"Your turn," he said. I was a little confused. Was England going to squeeze my ass, too? That wasn't like him. Maybe I really was dreaming, but I don't remember passing out.

England lifted his hands to show them to me. They were glowing brightly. Obviously he wasn't going to return my affection. I knew what was coming, but before I could protest, he pushed me off of him.

I became engulfed in the light. It was warm but didn't burn as harshly as the other time I had encountered the stuff. The light passed quickly, and I was surprised by my own transformation. I expected to be wearing something similar to England, but I was mistaken. I was wearing a bit more. The sleeves of the dress fell off my shoulders. The neckline dipped down to show as much cleavage as possible, if I had any. The satiny fabric was deep black and lined with white ruffles and lace. The bodice was tight and form fitting while the skirt was poofy and short. A small white apron was tied across my waist.

I smirked up and England. "You really have some strange fantasies, don't you? What, am I supposed to be your little french maid or something?"

"That's it." The strong hand of the bartender grabbed my arm and lifted me up. He grabbed England's as well. "I'm not going to stand any funny business in my bar." He proceed to throw the two of us outside.

I can't say I've never been thrown out if the bar before, but this was probably the mildest case. I didn't mind it though. England was here with me. And the dress was kind of pretty, even though it was pretty skanky even by my own standards. England was probably just trying to embarrass me, but it would take something a lot stronger than that. I twirled around and watched the skirt fly up around me.

I stopped and looked at England. He had been looking at me and was trying his best not to. I grabbed his hands and dragged him with me. "Come on! I've got an idea! And I know you have nothing better to do."

* * *

"And what are we doing back here?" England asked as he was demonstrating how much better he was at picking locks than me.

"There's just something I wanted to do earlier and never got the chance." My steps made the only sound as I made my way top the middle of the dance floor. Everything was pretty much set up the same way as it had been for Italy and Germany's wedding.

I held my arms out to England. "Dance with me?"

"But there's no music."

"That doesn't matter. Dance with me!"

"But we're both guys. That's way too awkward."

"Oh come on! If Spain and Romano can do it, so can we."

"Spain and Romano had a completely different situation. They had an excuse."

"And so do we! We are both currently drunk out of our minds and don't know any better. I'll even let you choose what we dance to."

England stood there for a moment. Then he stomped loudly over to the speaker system. He messed with a few of the wires and the soft hum of the speakers filled the room. He pressed a button and a lively jig permeated through the room. He raised his eyebrow as if to challenge me.

Of course I couldn't resist him when he was practically inviting me like that. I motioned my hands for him to come join me. He stepped quickly to where I was and clasped my hands. He was frowning. Pretty soon we were running and spinning all over the room. Our footwork was sloppy. We probably looked atrocious. We were constantly losing our balance and stumbling about the place. But in all honesty, it was probably the most beautiful moment I had ever had. England's frown had changed somewhere in the middle to a hopeless grin. By the end we were both breathless and panting. Sweat droplets made my skin slick on his. We collapsed in a sort of pile right there on the dance floor. My head rested on his chest.

"That...was actually a lot more fun than I imagined it to be." England's chest moved as he spoke. It felt like I was in tune with his every movement. It was so intimate and perfect.

"I can't believe we've never done that before."

"It probably has something to do with the fact that we can't stand each other."

I had nothing to say to that. It's true. I couldn't stand the way that he made me love him so much and I couldn't even do anything about it.

"Why do you guys hate me so much?" England broke the silence.

"Who?"

"You and Spain and Prussia."

"Well, Spain has the most reason to hate you. Her life hasn't exactly been the easiest."

"She can't blame everything on me. That's not fair." England yawned.

"We'll, it is kind of your fault. Her whole life had to change dramatically because you had that..." I couldn't find the word. Those weird lights in the forest. They weren't living, but they weren't exactly natural were they.

"Oh, right, that flying mint bunny."

"Huh?" That was an odd thing to bring up. Those lights were nothing like a bunny. I placed my outstretched hand on his chest and started drawing little shapes with my fingers.

"Yeah, ahem...those feelings might be... warranted," England allowed.

"As for Prussia, I really don't think he hates you. He's far to obsessed with himself to be bothered by you. He's just so loyal to Spain and me that he just sort of follows along."

"Hmm."

"As for me, I thought we had already talked about that. I don't really hate you. In fact, I've been in love with you for quite a while, you are just to big of an idiot to see it. And if you remember, you were the one to declare war on us."

There was no response. I took my chances and lifted my head. England had fallen asleep. How typical. Always missing the important part. His breath was soft and cool. I kissed his cheek because it would be a shame not to kiss something as cute as England sleeping.

He didn't respond to that either. I could feel the mischief welling up in my body. I kissed his cheek again. Then, his jawline. Then, his neck. Then, his shoulder. Then his chest and down his stomach. It was kind of addicting. I got all the way to the apron. I thought if I was going to be mischievous, I might as well go all the way while I could. I greedily grabbed at the front of his little black apron and tried to flip it up. It was no use. It was like it was stuck in place or something. That didn't make sense. What in the world could it possible be stuck to?

The doors opened, and the lights were flipped on. I tried to shield my eyes from the burning light.

"France? Is that you?" It was Italy with her new groom, Germany, by her side. She was the one who had asked me.

"What are you guys still doing here? And dressed like that?" Germany added. His face was disapproving at best.

"Oh Germany, don't be so naive. I imagine you must have done some studying before going on your honeymoon." That comment caused both Germany and Italy to blush. Two for the price of one. Nice. "As for why we're here, I could be asking you the same thing. Shouldn't you be on your honeymoon now? Doing sweet things that lovers do?" My eyes suddenly became heavier. I didn't know how much longer I'd be able to hold on. Would I get the pleasure of falling asleep with England now, too?

"Oh, well that was my fault really I forgot the tickets in the dressing room. Luckily, Germany likes to arrive an hour and thirty minutes early, so we still had time to come back and..." I fell asleep before Italy could finish her pointless explanation.


	18. Tainted Truths

I was awake, but I wish I wasn't. My head was killing me. I rolled over to reclaim the sleep that escaped me. I groaned. It didn't work, and I soon discovered that my stomach hurt too. It was a different kind of hurt though. I recognized the feeling and nearly fell out of my bed on my rush to the bathroom.

I hated throwing up. It was so ugly. My hair was sweaty and clung to my face. It was annoying as I pushed it out of the way of the oncoming vomit. Rum. Never again.

My focus returned when the puking stopped. I felt immensely better. One fact became very clear. I was back home. I had woken up in my bed. Naked. I peaked past the slightly open door back to my bed. Looks like I hadn't gotten lucky last night. The question was, how exactly did I get this way? The last I remember I was in a little maid outfit laying with England in the middle of the dance floor.

Since I was already naked, I decided to take a shower. The stench of alcohol and vomit washed down the drain along with what little remained of England's scent. I slipped into my satin robe and made my way to the kitchen. I glanced at the clock. It looked like an acceptable time for a glass if wine. It would help relieve my headache.

I spied a letter on the table that was addressed to me. It was sloppy, yet girly writing. Curious, I read through its contents.

"Dear France, I must admit, that wasn't the way I planned to spend my wedding night. In fact, I'm rather confused of what could have possibly went on. Germany says that I probably don't want to know. So I won't ask too terribly much. We brought you home, and Germany thought we should just leave you here. I thought you would be more comfortable out of that strange outfit. Germany thought we should 'kill it with fire,' but I decided to hang it in your closet. You certainly do have a lot of girls clothes. I put it near some other short black dresses. Oh, and don't worry about England. He'll be well taken care of as well. At least, I'm pretty sure he won't be killed. But in my defense, he gets what's coming to him. I don't take to kindly to people who prevent my night alone with Germany. Don't worry, I'm not mad at you. Just try not to make a habit of it. Germany says to wrap it up. Ciao! I guess I won't see you until after the honeymoon. I don't know what kind of details you are so interested in knowing, but I'll share what I can. Right now, Germany is kissing down my neck which makes it pretty hard to keep writing. Germany read that last line and says that I shouldn't share any details with you. I don't see the harm, but I guess I should listen to my husband. It feels so good to write husband. Veneziano Italy"

Well, that did answer a few questions. I was kind of disappointed that I wouldn't get my juicy gossip. And I was more than a bit concerned about England. It didn't sound like he had been brought back. I would have preferred that they had left him with me. To think, I could have woken up with him by my side.

I was pulled out of my little reverie when I heard insistent knocking at my door. I was surprised to find a dark hidden figure waiting.

"Well, aren't we feeling retro today? From what century did you pull that from? I must say, I much prefer that little number you were wearing last night," I said with a giant grin on my face.

"Shut up!" England pushed past me and paced nervously in my house. "And would you please out some clothes on!"

"I am wearing clothes," I said motioning to my robe. "Plus, this is my house. I can wear as much or as little clothes as I want."

"Well, I'm your guest. You should dress with as much decency as I require."

I raised my eyebrow at him. I released my breath in a huff and slipped the robe off in front of him. His face went beet red and a frown set in.

"Oh, don't get your panties in a bunch. I'll put on something 'decent' just for you mon cher," I said and walked through my hallway back to my room. I got to my closet and slipped on the first pair of slacks and V-neck I could find.

When I got back to my living room, England was still there wearing his dark green cloak. His eyes were roaming across the bookshelf, trying to find familiar titles no doubt. "So what do I owe this pleasure, anyway?" I asked.

He looked back to me. His face had faded some, but started to regain the dark pink. "I really didn't want to resort this...but given the circumstances, I don't see another feasible option. As crazy as it seems, I...need your help."

I feigned surprise."Moi? The great and powerful England is asking help from the likes of me? The world's going to end, isn't it? What a dark day this has turned out to be!"

"Just shut up, and do something about this." England whipped back the hood of his cloak and revealed a mess of pink hair.

I couldn't stop laughing. England's face matched his hair. I had wondered what that smell was, and it turns out it was tomatoes. He must have been completely soaked in tomatoes to get his hair that color. I laughed even harder when I realized what must have happened. Spain finally had her revenge.

"I knew I shouldn't have come here. Excuse me while I go shave my head and quite possibly commit suicide."

"St-stop! Y-you don't have to do that. I'll help get that stuff out of you hair," I said between chuckles. I pulled a chair up to the kitchen sink.

"The sink?" England questioned. "Is that really going to be the best place to do this?"

"No, the best place to do this would be the shower, but I just assumed that you didn't want me to join you. If you've changed your mind I can always strip again."

"Fine! But if you mess this up, I'm chopping your hair up in the garbage disposal." England plopped down on the chair.

"There really isn't much I could do tonmess it up even more, mon cher." I got the warm water going. England took off his cloak to make his pink hair more accessible. I gently pulled his head into the sink and let the water run through it. I took the simple pleasure of running my fingers through his hair. England slowly closed his eyes. This was the first time I noticed, but his eyelashes were pretty long. You couldn't see them very well since they were blonde, but they were rather beautiful. I slight smile appeared on his lips as I massaged his scalp.

"Does it feel good?" I asked softly.

"Hmmm," he hummed in pleasure.

I was so glad his eyes were closed. England would be rather creeped out if he knew how giddy his pleasure made me. I squeezed a bit of my good shampoo into my palm and worked it into his hair. The pink foam rinsed out leaving England's hair to be that familiar perfect blonde.

England's nose wrinkled. "Ugh, what's that smell. It smells so...French."

"That would be lavender, which is a much better smell than tomatoes I might add. I believe you have some of it where you come from, too. Besides, this scent is very popular with the ladies, trust me." That just reminded of the other nights at the bars. Girls basically crawling all over me. Sniffing me, trying to crawl into my bed. They always told me how much they loved my smell. Did I really want them to be doing that to England, too?

Not that this would work on him though. He probably wouldn't give those girls the slightest bit of attention. From what I could tell, England already had his love. And not even I could do anything to disrupt that.

Back to England's hair, it wasn't in the best of shape. I don't think he had ever conditioned it. No wonder it always stuck up all over the place. I quickly added a bit of conditioner and rinsed it out.

"There, good as new." I threw a towel down on England's face. He sat up and pushed the towel up to his hair. He ruffled it a bit and returned the towel to me.

God, he looked so hot wet. I was practically drooling. The way the water droplets beaded from the end of his hair and fell onto his face. It left a little trail down on the way to his lips.

"Well, I guess I should thank you." England's lips moved.

"Right, well, just try to keep out of Spain's bad side from now on, considering now she has a little accomplice," I said awkwardly. He must have caught me staring at him.

"Wait, how did you know Spain did this? You're not the one who sent me to that godforsaken place, did you?" he asked angrily.

I stuffed a baguette in his mouth to prevent him from spewing such utter nonsense. "Please, I have my own agenda. I know because tomatoes is Spain's personal signature. For someone who is supposedly great at deductions and spying, you really are clueless about some things. I'm sure if you asked Spain, she would tell you that Italy was the one who dropped you off at her doorstep. On the other hand, don't ask her. She'd probably just throw more tomatoes at you."

England shivered at the thought. He tore off a bite from the baguette and chewed it down. He took another bite, so at best he didn't hate it.

"What precisely happened last night? How did I end up..."

"Long story short, you begged me to take you, but I only got as far as your little black apron before Italy snatched you from me," I messed with him. At least this sounded more realistic than the truth.

"Stop it! That is not what happened! At least...I know I used...magic last night...I promised myself I wouldn't...nothing...strange happened to you, did it?"

Was he alluding to the fact that he dressed me up in a maid's outfit? There was no way I would let him hold that over me for the rest of my life. "There you go off with your magic fantasies again. Haven't you learned by now that magic doesn't exist?"

He frowned. "Despite everything that's happened, how can you not believe in magic?"

"Despite claiming to be such a gentleman, how can you still be so childish," I threw back at him

"At least I'm not a liar. I checked those books on your bookshelf. They weren't porn."

Good thing I had disguised England's letters so well. "Oh, you cheeky thing. I was just teasing you, and you went and checked anyway? You must be a bigger pervert than I thought. If you want some help getting it off, I can be there for assistance." I smirked at him.

"I don't know what you're trying to hide so badly, but I'll get to the bottom of this," England declared, choosing to ignore my suggestion.

"Oh, I bet you will. I rather like it on top," I continued. England finally had enough and stormed out with his hair still wet.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully that was enough to keep him away for a bit. Maybe I should throw a bit more porn at that shelf to keep him on his toes. Of course, the books were hidden in plain sight. The letters disguised in the middle of some trashy romance that England wouldn't look twice at.

A sudden wave of excitement dawned on me. I might have another letter waiting for me. England had obviously gone home before coming here, so there was a chance he could have abandoned that rum bottle. I looked out of my house. England looked long gone. Just to be safe, I took a different route to our beach.

I couldn't get my clothes off fast enough as I met the waves. They caressed me as I got out to the open water. My heart raced when sure enough, there was a rum bottle with my name practically written all over it.

I guess I was still a bit on edge. Instead of opening it right away like I usually did. I brought it back home. Maybe I just wanted to keep this rum bottle as a keepsake. The amazing night I got drunk with England. I slipped the letter out and read the words that had been smudged by England's shirt. I smiled at the memory.

"My darling love, how long have we been putting up this charade now? It feels like a lifetime and hardly any time at all. It's hard to believe I've let this happen for so long. Like my life with you is just slipping away. Today I had to attend a wedding and it made me think of you. You always seemed to enjoy these sort of ridiculous affairs. To think, this child realized her love before we did. I don't even know why she bothered to invite me. I'm not exactly the most likable person as you are far too fondly aware. I think it s just because I helped her out one time, but that wasn't intentional, and I'm getting sidetracked. The point is I'm just too much of a coward. I'm just so afraid of what we could be, yet I want it so badly I can't stand it. If only I knew what you were thinking, but you've been about as transparent as I have. Or at least, what I think I have been. God, I don't know what I would do if you knew that I loved you. I know I'd never hear the end of it. Just...be a bit more patient, my love. Some day, I swear I will make myself known."

I could feel a tear fall from my eyes. I didn't know I had been moved to tears. It was so bittersweet. Such raw love. Yet, my days to experience it were numbered. I prayed that I could just have a bit more time to have him for myself. Was that being too selfish?


	19. From Trio to Solo

"Ah! I can't contain all these feels!" Spain bawled. "It's just so sad!"

"Spain, you seriously need to stop crying. You should be happy! It's your wedding day after all!" I said.

Spain was standing before me in her long white wedding gown that she and Italy asked me to make. The red accents went perfectly with the carnations weaved into her medium length brown hair. Italy had been here a while ago, but she must not have been able to withstand the hysterics and went to help out with her brother.

"I-I know! But I know how much you like weddings! I always thought you would be the first of us to go!"

"Well, I guess I'm not really the marrying type." I already asked England, and he said no, albeit we were both drunk. I tried not to seem bitter on my best friend's wedding day.

"It's all England's fault," Spain sniffled.

"Right, right. I've heard this story a million times. But that shouldn't matter now. You've gotten your revenge now. You are a girl now, and you have your Romano now. Happily ever after."

"No, not that!" Spain waved me off. "It's all England's fault that you're not together. It was his stupid magic that made you a man in the first place."

I was shocked. I wasn't quite sure how to react. My body knew. My tears welled up, and a shaky sad smile broke out on my face. Spain gathered me up in her arms, and I cried quietly on her, thank god, sleeveless shoulder.

"It took you long enough to remember," I laughed. After all this time, I could finally be the girl so dependent on her best friend. My best friend I was going to have to share.

"I'm so sorry. Life just gets so complicated, doesn't it?" I could tell that she was starting to cry again. So much time we had lost. How I had missed such moments. Never underestimate the power of a girl moment.

"Now," I composed myself. My moment of fragility passed. I needed to be there for Spain on one of her most important days. "Don't you worry about me. I'll be fine. You know me. So stop your sniveling. You're going to ruin your makeup."

"I'm not wearing makeup."

Lucky. Why did such sexiness have to be wasted on such a tomboy? A soon to be married tomboy.

"Just think. At least one of us is getting laid tonight," I winked at Spain.

She hadn't been expecting the conversation to go that way. A sort of moony look came over her face.

"Tell me. Is he any good in bed?" I pried further.

Spain was smiling brightly now. "Oh, France, you have no idea. All those books and stories have nothing on the way Romano just..."

"Is this a bad time?" Italy warily walked into the room. "It's almost time for the ceremony to start." She was wearing one of my dresses again. A flattering red cocktail dress.

"Not at all. Spain and I were just talking about her sex with your brother. Anything you would like to contribute?" I said half jokingly.

"Um...I've never had sex with anyone other than Germany. Certainly not fratello..." Italy said shyly and a bit disgusted at the last part.

"Well, what's Germany like? It's okay, we are sisters now!" Spain encouraged.

Italy thought for a moment. "Well, it kind of hurt a little at first because Germany was so big. But he was so sweet and so gentle, and it felt so good. It was even better than pasta!"

The creak of the door told us that we were joined by others. Standing in the doorway were Germany and Prussia. Both were too embarrassed to look at each other. Both of their faces were red, but Germany's was considerably darker. He finally managed to look at Italy. He took her hand gently and then proceeded to drag her outside. She barely managed to wave us goodbye.

"Please please please please PLEASE don't tell me you two weren't just talking about having sex with my brother."

"Nope. We also talked about having sex with Romano. Do you want us to talk about how we think having sex with you would be like?" I said.

"That would be a rather quick discussion," Spain teased. I didn't know how Prussia would be able to recover from that burn.

"Actually, it would be a rather LONG and awesome discussion," Prussia said. He jerked his elbow around Spain's. I followed suite and latched onto her other elbow. Spain laughed as we lifted her up and carried her to the doors of the church.

It was just moment until I had to give my best friend away along with my other best friend. All I could think of was how to mess with the groom just a bit.

"Don't go over the top. He's going to have enough trouble coming from me," Spain whispered under her breath to me. It would be completely pointless to tell me not to mess with Romano at all.

"Moi? Cause trouble? On your wedding of all things? I'm ashamed that you can think such things from me," I said with a smile on my face.

"I'm serious. He probably thinks you're going to try to steal me away or something."

Can someone say inspiration? Prussia and I had practiced simultaneously kissing Spain on her cheeks. After Spain returned our kisses, I pulled her back in order to give her something more. Romano didn't seem to keen on that and snatched Spain away. If looks could kill, I had already died a thousand times in a sea of tomatoes. Still, his expression was hilarious.

* * *

This wedding was even lonelier than the first. First, Spain and Romano left in the middle of the reception. Right after they burnt up some old box. Things just went into chaos from there. Romano had gotten his revenge by throwing Spain's garter belt at my face, which ricocheted to Prussia. That really hurt. I brought my fingers to the tender, slightly puffy portion of my face. It just had to be the face.

Prussia was having a field day. Hungary had the matching bouquet, so he was lusting after their promised dance. He stole a swift kiss and was met with a kiss from the poor bouquet. She had a frying pan hidden up her skirt and started to beat him up with that as well. I admired her ability to hide something that uncomfortable for so long. I kind of wondered where exactly she had put that.

"Why...don't...you...just...leave...me...alone!" Hungary emphasized with every hit. Her eyes were shiny with tears. If Prussia hadn't stolen a kiss before, that was probably her first. Not that she'd ever let him know that.

"St-stop it! I promise! I'll leave you alone!"

"What?" Everyone was shocked by Prussia seemingly sudden change in character.

"I'll leave you alone if you let me kiss you. A proper kiss," Prussia offered.

"What? No!" Hungary refused, winding up for another hit.

"It's just one simple kiss. That's all it would take for me to be gone."

Hungary was stuck in that position. There was a long moment of silence in anticipation to her response. "Well, hurry up before I change my mind," she grumbled finally.

Now everyone was shocked by Hungary's change in character. Prussia even had to take a moment to collect himself.

He paced back in forth in order to prepare himself. He was muttering something under his breath.

"Just do it already!" Hungary shouted impatiently.

Prussia walked ran back to her. He took her face in his hands. He hesitated for just a millisecond before he brought his lips to hers.

They just stayed like that. Hungary stayed tense. Her hand was still tightly gripped to her frying pan. I would have expected her to push him back right away. She finally broke away for a deep gasp. She used her frying pan to help her cling onto Prussia as she returned for another hungry kiss.

That was unexpected. She couldn't get enough of Prussia kisses. I guess it wasn't all too surprising. I did teach him everything he knew. I don't think I'd ever seen Prussia look so ecstaticly happy. They finally took a real a break and were simply grinning at each other. Prussia moved his hand to the small of Hungary's back. His other took Hungary's unfurling panned hand and held it out. He proceed to flick off the Austrian conductor and effectively striking up the band in a waltz.

Prussia's moves were far to huge and grandiose for such a space. Neither partner seemed to mind because they were both laughing. Just whirling around the makeshift outdoor dance floor. The song ended and Prussia addressed the whole reception.

"What are you losers still doing here? Shows over, alright? The happy couple is long gone by now. And this couple is about to ditch this place, too. Don't just go watching someone else's happy life, I don't really blame you for watching mine, though. Make one of your own! Life is too short and awesome to do otherwise!" Prussia declared. He took a better grasp on Hungary's hand and ran away to who knows where

After that, people just left, rather confused of what had actually happened. They saw no need of actually sticking around. So there I was. I had all this champagne to drink and cake to eat. I watched that stupid box burn with not even England this time to keep me company.


	20. The Curse Ends

"So, like, can you do it?" Poland asked me. She twirled her hair around her finger and chewed a piece of bright pink bubblegum.

This was starting to get ridiculous. A bit cruel, even. I mean, Poland? Poland? Poland hadn't even been a girl in the first place. Sure, he acted like one, and he was always fun to dress up. He had been the only one really that would let me. So basically, there had always been something a little odd with him.

That would make Lithuania perfect for her in a way. It obviously took a certain kind of man to stick around her for so long.

"It shouldn't be too much trouble," I sighed.

This ordeal had been more than a little frustrating. It seemed like most of Poland's wedding decisions were based off whether or not they were pink. Pink champagne, pink salmon. She was even throwing out the age old tradition of a white wedding dress. She insisted that the entire garment be a light shade of pink.

"Really? That's like really great!" Poland's eyes went wide. She closed what little distance between and wrapped her skinny little arms around me in a friendly embrace. I just hoped she wouldn't get her bubblegum stuck in my hair. "I can't wait!"

Her light green eyes were bright with excitement. She flippantly pushed her blonde hair behind her ear. I couldn't help but let my mind wander to the person who almost shared those same features. His expressions would never be that bright. He always shown with a much subtle, darker light. But his seemed even more intense.

She gathered up her accessories and practically danced through my house. Her enthusiasm was almost too much. "I'll, like, see you later then!"

I put on a smile and waved her goodbye. As soon as she left, the smile fell from my face. What was it with couples lately? It seemed like everyone was pairing off. Even Prussia had a girlfriend for goodness sakes! This needed to stop. If it continued, I would end up the only one alone.

It hadn't seemed too long ago when I found her wandering the streets by herself. I didn't really knew who she was at the time, but I kind of felt sorry that she was spending her night alone. I knew that feeling all too well, so I invited her to drink with Prussia and I. She ended up changing into clothes that looked remarkably like Germany's. Prussia freaked out and dragged her away to get the answers from her. It all worked out alright, but I just ended up by myself again.

Since then I sort of avoided going out. I tried to keep busy, but something always seemed to remind me of England. Maybe I was just going through withdrawal or something. I hadn't been finding any rum bottles lately either...

I needed to snap out of this. I needed a good drinking night to get out of this funk, but I hated drinking alone.

The phone rang then. The sound almost made me jump. It sounded a bit unfamiliar.

"Hello?" I said after I picked it up. There was some whispering on the other line that I wasn't sure was intended for me.

"What am I supposed to say? What if he says no? Why don't you do this?" Someone whispered quickly.

"Don't let him say no! We can't let that happen! Just...wing it!" Someone else said louder, but he was further away.

"Okay...um, France? Are you there?" The first voice whispered louder into the phone.

"Hello, Canada, honey!" I said, recognizing his soft voice. Canada always had a way of cheering me up. "What is it you were going to ask me, sweetie?"

"Ah, well, I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for drinks tonight," he said meekly.

"Sure, mon cher! We'll have lots of fun! I'll meet you there!" I said. I hung up the phone. I guess that was one problem solved. It wasn't really the best option. I practically raised Canada. It was kind of weird for him to suddenly ask me out to drinks. I groaned internally. I really hoped that he didn't think of this like a date or something. I would have to reject him as gently as possible. But he was just too cute to say no to.

* * *

I headed down to the bar early in case the evening went sour and awkward. I wanted to at least get some alcohol in my system. I waited a while and Canada still didn't show up. I started drinking more and was getting emotional. How dare he stand me up when I was going to turn him down gently! Damn it, I came to make myself feel better, and I was just feeling worse.

I heard someone stumble into the bar then. I didn't want to look up from my glass. I already knew who it was anyway, or who it wasn't. It was just my mind playing tricks on me again. England couldn't possibly be next to me again. That already happened. My mind sure wasn't very imaginative. I needed to think of something more original.

"What the hell is the matter with you, you frog?"

Talking? That was new. Okay, maybe it wasn't a drunk illusion this time. I looked up to see England by my side. I smiled ever so slightly, but I'm sure he didn't notice.

"It's nothing," I insisted.

"You think after all these years I can't tell when there's something wrong?" England said. He took a swig from his rum bottle. He had obviously started on it before he came here. I vaguely wondered if I would be getting another letter soon. The thought of that reassured me somewhat. "You better tell me. You'll ruin my whole evening if you're so depressed."

I rolled my eyes. As if my being sad would ruin his evening. How selfish was he? "Poland's getting married," I shared anyway.

England took another drink, not really looking at me. "And what, you liked her or something and were rejected?"

"Ha! If I liked her, something like that wouldn't stop me."

"Then what? Aren't weddings something you're usually happy about?"

"Yeah, I love weddings."

"Then I really don't see what the problem is. You freak out at the weirdest things."

"You're one to talk. The problem is that I love weddings too much. I love to love weddings. I love weddings so much, I hate them."

"That's all? You get all melancholy because of that? I have much bigger problems than that."

"If you think that's the end of it, then you are sadly mistaken. You know nothing of my life, do you?"

"I know plenty. I still insist that none of you petty problems can compare with mine."

This was turning into an over emotional contest all too quick. One I was not intending to lose. What ever he could possibly say could compare with all the crap I've been through?

"Bring it on, little sheep! What could possibly be wrong in your perfect little life? SO perfect, that even your problems are better than mine. I'm listening!" I shouted at him. It was his turn to spill his secrets.

"Fine! You really want to know? I hate you!" No surprise there. "I hate you so much, I literally can not stop loving you. I love to hate you. And I hate that I love you. It's such a vicious cycle. It's driving me insane. And why in the world are you laughing?" England confessed. He was interrupted with my completely inappropriate laughter.

"You...love me?" I managed to say between laughs.

"I don't find in necessary to repeat myself. You don't believe me?" He said incredulously.

"Nope! You're going to have to prove it to me."

"Prove it? I can't prove something like love. I just do, okay! Just drop it. I shouldn't have said anything in the first place. It was a mistake. Pretend it never happened."

"Oh no, you're not getting out of this so easily. I've waited too long. You are going to show me right here and now how much you love me or else I'm never going to believe you. Or maybe you're just a coward."

England tried to look away, but I held his gaze. We both knew what he would have to do. His face set into determination. His hand gripped my neck. He pulled me to him. The kiss was angry, but I couldn't dream of anything more perfect. It was like he was pulling the very essence out of me. His thumb gently stroked the soft skin on my neck.

The kiss stopped suddenly. England broke away with a very perturbed look on his face. "What the hell?" He said.

What the hell? And what the hell was with that reaction. He could at least try to look a bit happier. He was supposed to be in love me, right? I had never been happier in my life, and he had to just go and ruin it. Typical England.

That's when I noticed that England's face was glowing. "What the hell?" I repeated back to him. I placed my hands on his cheeks. "Why is your face glowing?"

"How the hell did you get so much raw magic..." The glowing slowly faded as he concentrated. He opened his eyes with a renewed fire in his green eyes. "I need you to stay very still," he murmured low to me. His lips returned to mine like they were magnets.

His request was impossible, of course. There was no way I could keep still when he was kissing me like that. Each kiss was a struggle. I wouldn't let him be a better kisser than me. I knotted my fingers in his hair so I could draw myself closer to him. His arms wrapped around my back securing me to him.

"I thought I told you to stay still. You're not making this any easier," he growled when we took a break to breathe. His face was glowing again. His eyes were ablaze in green fire and passionate fury.

"Whoever said I was easy?" I said and pulled him back to me.

I felt so small compared to the moment. I found myself pushed up against the bar in order to keep myself glued to England. The extra support allowed me more freedom to kiss England the way I wanted. I was drunk on his rum kisses. My fingers released their death grip and gently ruffled his shaggy pieced hair. My hands moved from his face to his neck to the opening of his shirt.

England finally pushed me away. Had I gone too far already? He took a few steps back and was simply staring at me with awe. It did seem rather unbelievable and wonderful that we were together. Still, he continued to gawk at me.

I finally looked down and saw what the big deal was. My clothes were too loose on me suddenly. I shrunk? No, it was bit more complicated than that. I felt my sides through all the clothes. They were curved. Very curved. My elation rose as I ran my hands over and over my hourglass figure. I started giggling. "England, are you seeing this?"

"You little liar! You told me you didn't believe in magic, and all this time you had that much in you! You've been a girl this whole time, and you never told me!"

"Oh darling, I was just teasing you! You wouldn't have believed me if I told you the truth anyway. I mean, who would believe that I was just walking in the woods and a bunch of floating lights attacked me along with a pet bunny?" I bounded toward England.

"I don't have a dick anymore! And feel this!" I took his hand and placed it on my breast. Good god, that felt amazing. "They're real! I have boobs!"

England was speechless. His face went red, but he didn't dare move his hand.

I clasped my hands behind his neck. "Your place or mine?" I asked. There was no way I could not have more of this.

"W-we...we can't possibly. Isn't it a bit soon, I mean?"

Soon? We had loved each other for centuries without letting the other know. There was no way I was going to let another moment pass. I brought my lips to his to convince him otherwise. He groaned with pleasure against me. How could he pass this up? I could feel his hands exploring my new and glorious curves as well.

"Your place or mine?" I repeated breathlessly.

"Yours. It's closer," he said resolutely. All my grinning made it difficult to kiss, but we somehow managed to as we made our way from the bar to my bed with England half carrying me in our inseperable embrace.

**AN: Ha! It's a twist! It makes sense because France technically didn't have a spell cast on her to begin with. It took several kisses for England to drag all of that magic out of her. ;)**


	21. Mon Cher Mouton Noir

I woke up with England's arms encircled around my waist from behind. So last night hadn't been a dream. I was able to work up just enough room to turn myself around so I could get a better look at him.

It wasn't like England to be asleep so late. I knew that he usually woke up earlier from our warring times. He must have gotten more drunk than I realized. Or maybe it was just the effects of the rum.

Since it looked like I was going to be stuck here for a while, I might as well keep myself entertained. Such an amazing inconvenience. Smoothed down England's large set of eyebrows. I brushed them against the grain, and the hairs stood on end, making his eyebrows appear even bigger. I smoothed them back into place after giggling quietly to myself.

England twitched under my light touch. His eyelids squeezed together, and his arms instinctively held me closer. I helped him by wrapping my arms around his neck. He was starting to wake up. His large hands slowly traversed up the smooth skin of my back sending chills up my spine. His movements quickened as he pushed my arms over his head. He scrambled away with a peculiar look on his face. He fell off the bed taking about half of the sheets with him.

"Ah!" He yelled when he realized that he was naked and what that implied. He used some of the sheets to cover up his lower half.

"You sure are disoriented in the morning. Darling, there's no need to feel embarrassed. If you have morning wood, come back to bed where I can take of it." I was totally exposed as I crawled towards his side of the bed.

"Wh-who the bloody hell are you? Where am I?"

I wasn't really offended that he couldn't remember who I was. The only time he had seen me in this girl form was from a fleeting drunk memory.

"Do you need a hint, mon petit mouton noir?"

I didn't really want to leave the bed, but I didn't see any other choice. If England insisted on staying there on the ground, then I would join him. I didn't want to freak him out anymore yet, so I sat right beside him. He couldn't really look at me, and his face was growing red. I rolled my eyes. I joined him under the sheet he offered, being sure to cover up the important parts.

Once England could get a proper look at me, he couldn't stop staring. I smiled slyly at his perplexed gaze.

Without smiling, he gently grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me into a questioning kiss. I answered all too eagerly. I latched my body on to his as he weaved his fingers into my hair.

When the kiss ended, he had a smile on his face. "So it really was you, France?"

I murmured my answer into his skin as I kissed down his neck.

England pulled my hair to bring my lips to his once more. This one was long and sweet and simply unbearable.

He broke away with his eyes still closed, recalling what happened last night. When he opened them, he gave me a scolding look. "You never told me that you loved me," he chided.

"What? Yes I did. I told you several times, but you wouldn't listen," I defended myself.

"I didn't believe you then. I probably still don't. You're going to have to prove it to me." He smirked.

I gave him a quick kiss and said, "Je t'aime." I went after kiss after kiss repeating my phrase over and over to him.

He shook his head to stop my kissing. "You're going to have to do better than that. If I had to show you...physically, then you have to show me not physically."

He sure loved to make things difficult for me. I raked my brains to think of an acceptable sign. "Wait right here. I'll be back soon," I promised as I got up to leave.

"For goodness sakes, put some clothes on!"

I gave England a look and grabbed the closest garment I could find. It was the shirt he had worn the other night. I flipped my hair out of the shirt and headed for the kitchen. I knew it was somewhere around here. I found what I was looking for a brought some water to a boil. This was taking forever. I drummed my fingers against the table. I wanted to get back to England. I found a tray and put the teapot, cups, and tea on it. I carefully balanced the set as I made my way back to my room.

"There, you see? I made your favorite stupid tea. I've had it here just in case. If that doesn't say 'I love you' then I don't know what does," I announced.

England wasn't exactly where I left him. He was practically under my bed as he reached for something hidden. He had out his pants back on. If we were combined, we would have been fully dressed.

"What are you doing?" I laughed as I placed the tea tray on the ground.

England came out with one of the books in his hands. My eyes went wide.

"Uh, honey, you should probably put that back," I said slightly panicked.

"This is your favorite book, isn't it?"

"Yes, but I really don't think you want to read that."

"Why are you still so defensive about this? If you loved me, you would let me read it."

I sighed. I needed to stay calm. I had to trust that England would still be with me if he knew I had this. "If that's what it's going to take, but only because I love you."

England grinned brilliantly. "You're not going to regret this!"

"Yeah, but you might," I said to myself. "Careful! Those pages are fragile!" I said as England opened the first volume.

He scrunched his eyebrows together as he flipped through the book. "Why is this so strange? These pages are so old and no one uses this style of writing anymore. And you said this was your favorite?"

"Yeah, I guess it is a bit strange to you. Maybe I just have a thing for the author or something."

England's eyes squinted as he tried to read his own handwriting. He finally recognized it. His face went from shocked to red from embarrassment to rather angry looking. I knew this was coming.

"You...you...you...you!"

"Calm down, mon cher!"

"I will not calm down!" England finally let out. "The whole time! You've had these the whole time!"

"In my defense, I did not know what it was at first. I was just swimming around and there was a bottle..."

He flipped to the back of one of the pages. His eyes went wide. "Waterloo. You knew about Waterloo, didn't you."

I just simply nodded, remembering that hurtful and complicated time.

He gathered me up in his arms then. His hands stroked my hair. He planted light kisses all over my face. "You're an idiot, you know that right? You should have just told me. To think you were reading my letters to you this whole time..."

"If I told you, I thought you would stop writing them. Oh!" It finally hit me. I couldn't help but grin excitedly.

"What? What is it?" England was confused by my sudden change in mood.

"Those letters. They were for me the whole time!"

"Yeah. Who the bloody hell else could it have been for?"

"It just never occurred to me. I thought you hated me."

"I do hate you." He kissed me then. "I just love you more than I hate you."

The feeling was mutual. I kissed him back, trying to one up him. My hands went to his pants, trying to get them off again. If he noticed, he didn't seem to care. His hands went to the buttons of his shirt I was wearing.

I felt something move inside his pants. I took a break from kissing him and smirked.

"Is that your cellphone, or are you just happy to see me?"

He gave a disapproving look at my pickup line and took the vibrating phone out of his pocket. England took a look at the caller ID and rolled his eyes.

"Do you mind if I take this? It's America, and if I don't pick up he's just going to keep calling back."

"Put it on speaker," I said.

England pressed the buttons. "This better be bloody well important, America. I'm rather busy at the moment." When England mentioned busy, I ran my hands down his chest and nibbled on his ear. England grabbed a cup of tea and took a sip. He brought my face to his and gave me a scalding hot kiss.

"I bet you are. I noticed you're not home, so that means you're probably at France's since you love him so much," America sang the last part.

"Wh-what makes you think I was? Not like it's any of your bloody damn business..."

"I'll take that as a yes. Oh! Canada wants to apologize to France for not meeting him up at the bar. I'm not sorry for not meeting you there because I really didn't want to see two old foagies having sex in a bar."

"We did not have sex in a bar!" England shouted at the same time I shouted, "I am not old!"

There was silence on the line for a while. "Canada! Did you hear that? That was a girl's voice! They totally had a three way!"

"America, you're embarrassing me. That's France," came a soft whispering voice.

"No, France doesn't have a voice that girly. It's of a more of a deep, violating, seductive, creepy voice."

"America, France is a girl. I thought you knew that..."

"What?! That doesn't even make sense!"

"America," I said into the receiver in the sweetest, most feminine voice I could manage. "I'm afraid we really do have to go. I wouldn't bother trying to reach us again for a while. Oh, and if you ever call me old again, believe me, I will not hesitate to bring the guillotine back, and it won't be used for your head." I ended the call. England was trying to hold back his laughter.

"And you better not be calling me old either, mister," I scolded him.

"Oh? And what are you going to do if I did?" England challenged. Seriously, I wasn't that much older than him.

"I have my own ways of torture." I nipped and pulled at his lower lip.

England let out a soft moan. "You're so sexy when you're threatening people."

I grinned at him. "Kiss me, or else." He eagerly brought his lips to mine and we continued from where we had been so rudely interrupted.


	22. Seduction Contest Part 1

I was pretty disappointed by the lack of mirrors in England's house. It was nothing like the palace in Versailles. Still, it was nice to get a little dressed up for a change. The closet here was pretty small, so I was limited of what clothes I could wear. I just couldn't tell the full effect of my look.

I went on my search for England. I knew he was somewhere in this huge place. I don't know how he could stand living by himself here for so long. The halls reverberated with each step of my high heels.

I found England in his study. He was sitting in his big arm chair looking at some paper work and drinking some tea. He always had to act so serious all the time. I invited him to come drinking with me and Prussia and Spain, but he didn't want to go.

I waited for England to look up. He had to have known I was here. I cleared my throat so that he would look up. His green eyes peered through his blonde eyelashes. He looked fully at me, his mouth agape and his face growing pink. Looks like I looked great.

"And where are you going dressed like that?"

"I told you. I'm going drinking with Prussia and Spain."

"Do you really have to dress like that?" He set his papers down.

"Like what? Is there anything wrong?" I turned around to see if there was anything stuck to me.

"So provocatively. You already have me, so you don't need to go trying to attract other men, even if you like the attention."

"But this isn't provocative. You're just a pervert. I can't help it if you can't keep your hands off me."

"Ha! You're way more perverted than I am."

"Says the man who likes to magically role play as a naked butler with a sexy French maid."

"Hey! That was one time, and I was really drunk!" England said, looking a bit embarrassed.

"There's nothing wrong with that, sweetie. I'm just saying that it makes you a bigger pervert than me." I walked over and sat myself down on his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he wrapped his around my waist. It was almost kind of funny that we could still fight and remain so close.

"There's only one way to settle this, you know. We'll have to have a competition," England finally said. He started to softly kiss the curve of my neck.

"Mmmm, sounds fun. What are the rules?"

"It's quite simple really." His breath tickled my skin. "We see which of us gets turned on the easiest. There's a time limit, and the seducer can not touch the seducee unless the seducee touches the seducer first. Whoever can get past the time limit wins." I paused and scooted away from England's lips. I held my hands out in front of me to show him I wasn't touching him. As soon as he let go, I could get up.

England frowned a bit. "We haven't started yet. We haven't even agreed on the time limit."

"Let's make this a bit more interesting. If I win, you can not say anything about what I wear for a month. If I lose, you get to choose what I wear for a month. As for the time limit, it doesn't matter that much because I'm pretty sure I can turn you on and still make it in time to go drinking."

England smiled slyly and took his hands off of me. "You don't need to make things harder for yourself. Your over confidence is going to ruin you."

I slowly got up. "You underestimate me. I'll be right back."

"Take your time," England said returning to his paper work.

I hadn't planned on looking this sexy. I went back to the bathroom we shared and went to my makeup drawer. I put on a bit of mascara and some bright red lipstick. I pursed my lips together. There. Irresistible.

I glided back to his study. England was right where I left him. Huddled right over his papers. I smirked. This was going to be too easy.

I slowly stripped off my clothes, revealing my black lacy lingerie. England wasn't looking but I could tell it was working. He was trying too hard not to look at me. He seemed to flinch when he heard each article of clothing hit the floor. His hand was too tight on his pen, making it impossible for him to actually get any work done. He was pushing the edge of his self control.

It still looked like he'd need another push. I sauntered over to his desk. His breathing stopped. Maybe he thought that if he passed out, I wouldn't be able to turn him on. I placed my hands on his desk, each on one side of his papers. My knees followed so I was completely on his desk. England huffed and sat back, giving me a disapproving look. He couldn't pretend to do his work anymore.

I planted my elbows on the chair on either side of his head. I lowered myself so that we were mere centimeters apart. I brought my mouth a hairs breath away from his ear.

"Are you turned on yet?" I whispered seductively.

"You...are a cheater."

"Oh? And how exactly am I cheating?" I blew into his ear and brought my face in front of his.

"You're touching me."

"I'm not touching you. You're touching me." England's hands had unknowingly found their way to me. His fingers dipped below my panty line and wriggled up under my bra. Each caress sent waves of pleasure through my entire body

"Oh bollucks!" He gave up. His hands gripped me and pulled me to him for a hot steamy kiss. His tongue glided into my mouth making it almost impossible for me to want to break away. I tried to pull back, but he wouldn't let me go. Had a forced him too far?

"England...England...Angleterre!" I said insistently between kisses.

"You know, you really didn't need the makeup," England said. I took the opportunity to get myself off the desk and back to my pile of clothes.

"I know. I just thought it would make a nice change." I put my clothes back on. "I'll be back late."

"You can't be serious. You're just going to leave me here like that?" England looked flabbergasted and slightly clown-like with my lipstick smeared all over his face.

I winked at him. "You have until tomorrow night at midnight. I'm looking forward to it." I practically skipped out of the house. Looks like I still had it. I laughed to myself. I wondered what exactly England thought would turn me on.

* * *

"If it was me, I'd lose that bet so badly," Spain said. She took another sip of her wine. "I don't know how you'll be able to stand it. I'd go crazy if I couldn't touch Romano for 24 hours."

"Yeah, it'll be hard, but I'm not going to let myself lose," I said.

"Sorry I'm late, you guys." Prussia made his entrance into the bar then. "Germany just had to drop this little bundle of joy on me."

Even though Prussia was being sarcastic, he didn't look all that irritated. The little girl was all smiles and giggles. Her eyes were a bright blue, and her still short strawberry-blonde hair was tied into pig tails. She looked so adorable. Prussia let her sit on the bar and ordered a beer for himself.

Spain frowned at Prussia. "Do you really think it was a good idea to bring Daisy to a bar?"

"I know! I told Germany that I was going to the bar with you guys, but he said watching her would be good experience for me. What exactly did he mean by that? It's like he forgets that I'm the one who raised him or something."

"Oh, so this is the famous Daisy!" It was hard to think that Germany could make a kid this cute, but I guess she got a lot of her looks from her mother. I took her from Prussia's arms.

"Hi, sweetie! I'm your Auntie France! What's your name?" I kissed her on her fat rosy cheeks.

She returned my greeting kisses. "I'm...the...the webuwic of doytchlan and talia comonwelf, but people call me Daisy for short."

It was so adorable! She couldn't even properly say her name yet. Still, it was still pretty good for her being so young. I sat her in my lap and she played with the curls at the end of my hair.

"I'm thirsty!" Daisy declared.

"Here!" Spain took one last sip from her glass and handed it to Daisy. "You can have some of mine."

"Guys, you're going to get me in trouble. I really don't think Germany will let me watch Daisy again if he knows I gave her alcohol," Prussia said. He didn't exactly do anything to stop us though. We were all pretty much raised on alcohol in one form or another.

"Oh, relax. That's just grape juice. I'll have to lay off the alcohol for a few months." Spain smiled and her hand went to her abdomen.

I nearly spit out my wine. I screamed joyously. I gave Spain a big hug, and Daisy giggled in between us.

"Oh great. I can't believe my best friends ended up being such girls," Prussia said unenthusiastically.

I punched Prussia in the shoulder. "That is NOT the appropriate response. And you thought I was going to have it bad. You won't be able to have alcohol either!"

"Well, Romano and I are going to have sex while it's still safe. After that, we'll just have to go as far as possible. And for the alcohol, if I keep drinking grape juice, I think I'll be okay," Spain said.

"Ix nay on the ex say," Prussia mumbled. He indicated toward the infant on my lap.

"Prussia relax! She probably doesn't even know what we're talking about, do you sweetie?" I said.

Daisy didn't respond. She was sleeping lightly on me.

"You should get her home." I carefully picked her up in my arms and gave her back to Prussia. "It's way past her bedtime."

"Yeah, Hungary probably wants to see her, too. Hey, maybe next time I should tell Germany to let Spain babysit for a change. She's the one who needs the experience after all," Prussia said.

"I have lots of experience! I did practically raise Romano, and he...okay, bad example. That might not be such a bad idea. We'll have to work on Romano's mouth a bit."

Looks like are evening out was done, seeing as we were all heading towards the door to head home.

"Oh, and France?" Spain winked at me. "Good luck with England!"

"Lord, help me..." I said mostly to myself.

* * *

When I got back to England's the house was dark. I held my hand out in front of me and stumbled my way back to our room. I stripped down to my underwear and crawled into bed, careful to avoid the lump that was England. I heard the coverd rustle as he moved closer to where I laid.

"Did you have a nice time?" He whispered soft and low in my ear.

"Mmm, yeah. It was nice to see those two again. Got a little drunk. Oh, and Spain's pregnant."

England chuckled darkly to himself. He probably thought I would be easier if I was drunk. "You know, if you want, we could get you pregnant here...and now," he tried to say seductively. That was probably the worst pickup line I had ever heard. He was so much better at writing them down.

"Nice try, but not yet. Goodnight, mon cher, and don't forget: no touching." I scooted away, and England flopped angrily on his side of the bed. I smiled to myself in the dark. This really was going to be fun.


	23. Seduction Contest Part 2

**AN: Hold on tight, and grab your tissues (for possible nosebleeds and sheer hilarity of ridiculous things that spew out of England's mouth.) Here we are at the grande finale. I cant believe all of the FrUKy moments stuffed into one chapter! This is my pride and joy for this story, so I hope you all enjoy it!**

That was not fun. I felt like I hardly got any sleep last night. It was too hard to sleep with England so close to me. I could hear his breathing, and I wanted to reach out and touch him. I was so used to clinging to each other even in our sleep, regardless of how much we had fought the day before. I never wanted to have a night like that ever again.

The morning seemed like it would be bad as well. I woke up to the smell of smoke. It smelled like something was burning. I looked up and saw a giant clock. The face said it was eight o'clock. This was too early for such nonsense.

I groaned as I threw the covers off of me. Morning was a bit too cool for my liking. I shuffled my way over to my silk bathrobe and quickly tied it on. I slowly picked up the clothes I had left on the floor last night and put them away. I noticed that the clock was ticking rather loud. And the smell of smoke was getting stronger. I made my way out to the kitchen where the horrid smell was undoubtedly coming from.

"England, honey, excuse my english, but what the bloody hell are you doing?" I said sleepily.

"I thought you might like breakfast, but it didn't exactly go as expected. They look pretty bad, but they shouldn't taste too terrible." England placed some indistinguishable black lumps on a plate.

"Are you sure? I think you better eat one first."

"Fine!" England said. Sometimes, I really admired England's bravery. Or was it stupidity? He took a huge bite of the charred bits. His face scrunched up, but he didn't spit it out. His eyes were watering, and his face was getting red. He gulped it down.

"Not...not too bad!" He managed to get out.

I sighed. He could be so stubborn sometimes. "England, think back. Have I ever once said that your cooking was good? That it turned me on? 'Oh, England! These scones are so mouthwatering! I just want to have sex with you right now because of these scones. The only thing that could be better is eating these hot scones off your body while we do it!' Really, England. I thought you had more common sense."

"Well, excuse me for trying to do something for you!"

I took a the plate from him and headed into the kitchen. "It was a lovely thought, mon cher. But good intentions don't exactly turn me on."

Apparently, neither did dirty kitchens. It looked like England had spilled something on every single space and used every single utensil. I could smell the other failed attempts. The tea on the kettle seemed like the only thing he got right.

England looked a bit guilty. "I, uh, was planning to clean up this mess."

If England's plan was for me to punch him in the face just so I could touch him, it was working. I took a deep breath, but only smelled the horrid food. I threw my hands up in surrender.

"You wash, I'll dry. It'll go faster this way." This job was too big for him to handle by himself.

As England handled wiping down the surfaces, I took the so called food out to the mulch pile. Hopefully, they wouldn't make the roses die. When I came back, it did look a lot better. I was lucky that England was such a hard worker. I went to England's side by the sink and started drying everything.

We actually made a pretty good team. If we had done this any other day, we probably would have gotten too distracted to get any work done. I set the table with tea for two along with some old bread that I made into French toast.

We sat across the table from each other. A lovely bouquet of roses was set in the middle of the table. It was actually kind of nice for a change to spend this quiet morning eating breakfast with England.

Suddenly, I started laughing out of nowhere. England must have been feeling the same way because he was laughing as well. It was hilarious. The normality of it all.

"So, England."

"Hmm?" England had just taken a sip of his tea.

"What's with the giant clock in our room?"

"Oh, that? I was just using it to count the hours until you returned home."

I started laughing again. "Alright Casanova. I'm going to take a shower. You can clean up since you ruined our first breakfast."

I could feel England's eyes on me as I left the room. I added a bit more sacheing just for him.

I let my bathrobe slip to the floor. I unhooked my bra and tugged down my panties. I closed the screen behind me and let the warm water run over me. I closed my eyes and hummed a bit as I lathered my hair.

I was a bit surprised when the water stopped, but I guess I should have seen this coming.

"England, I need to get wet."

"Just one touch, and I can take care of that." I opened my eyes. The water was still running, but England was standing in front of the nozzle completely naked. The water hit the back of his head and ran down his neck. Droplets traversed his shoulders and went down his arms and chest. And he was just a mere inch from me.

"Ha ha!" I reached behind him for the removable nozzle.

"No!" he said as he grabbed the other end of the cord. We were at a temporary tug of war.

"Okay, we can do one of two things. Either you let me rinse off or I go rinse my hair in the sink and spend the day at Spain's. I really don't want to do that and be the awkward third wheel, especially since I'm pretty sure that Romano still hates me. But I'll just tell him it's your fault. I'm sure you'll enjoy smelling like tomatoes again for a week."

"And what makes you think that I'll agree to any of those terms?"

I grabbed my towel, twisted it, and struck him with it.

"Ow! Fine! I'll rinse you off!" He took the hand held sprayer from me and pointed it in my direction.

"Although my boobs do appreciate the nice soak, the shampoo is in my hair."

England pointed the water at my face. Real mature, but at least it was getting the shampoo out. I turned around so I could rinse the back of my head. Once my hair was all smooth and wet, I stepped out of the shower. I wrapped the towel around my hair and let my body drip dry.

"Don't stay in too long and get all pruny," I said from the other side of the curtain.

England muttered something unintelligible. I made my way to the room that was designated as my closet. It somehow still wasn't quite big enough. I went to the lingerie section. Which one did England find the sexiest?

I narrowed it down to two and carried them back to the bathroom. England was out of the shower and rubbing a towel through his hair.

"Red or dark blue?"

"Hmmm?" England looked up. He mumbled something into his towel and used it to cover his face which was growing redder by the second.

"Red it is then," I said as I left. I headed back to my closet to pick out the rest of my clothes.

England joined me after a while. His hair was still a little wet, and he crossed his arms as he stood across from me.

"You leave me no choice." England uncrossed his arms and put a vial to his lips. He drank the unknown liquid. "I hope you know how rare an opportunity this is."

"What did you do this time?" I asked as I sat down in my chair.

"I have have just consumed one of my magic potions. I can make my image any one you want. I could turn into the sexiest man that you've ever dreamed in your wildest imagination. Just say the word."

"This is ridiculous." England just didn't get it.

"No, it's not!" England's image morphed. He grew a few inches, and his hair grew darker. His skin grew tan, and his shoulders grew a little broader. He became altogether a bit more muscular. He smiled.

"I heard you call Spain sexy a few times, is this what you wanted?"

I laughed at him. "Spain is like my sister! Or in this case brother. I couldn't have sex with that!"

He frowned. "Well, tell me what you want, then. This potion doesn't last forever!"

I sighed and sat up in my chair. "Fine. I'll play along. Make your hair a bit lighter and straighter and a bit more light in your eyes."

England squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated. His hair grew lighter from the roots. The brown was stripped away and was replaced by a very light blonde. The eyes smoldered a green flame.

"The hair's a little too far. I'd rather not do Prussia either."

His hair changed to a more golden blonde. It looked about right now.

"Okay, now make your skin more pale and your body a bit slighter. Like you've spent most of your time inside."

England looked a bit confused, but followed my instructions anyway. "You sure do have weird tastes," he said.

"Mmmhmm, nothing turns me on more than a hermit. Now take off your clothes."

England's clothes immediately disappeared. He came toward me, expecting for me to finally embrace him.

"I said not like Prussia. You'll need it to make it smaller."

"I don't know what you're talking..." He tried to feign ignorance.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. No one really needs all five meters." I had exaggerated, but Prussia would find it pretty accurate.

England frowned, and I watched as it shrank.

"Okay you can give yourself a bit more credit."

"There. Are you happy now?"

"Just one last touch. What really turns me on are eyebrows."

"What? Eyebrows? Are you joking?" England said incredulously.

"Nope. There's just something about really thick eyebrows that gets me all hot and bothered." England reluctantly obeyed. "Mmmm, perfect!" I said once he was back to normal.

England turned to the mirror to see what kind of strange person was the type who turned me on.

"I look exactly the same!" England complained.

"Yep! You are the sexiest person I can think of."

"But...I'm not...sexy."

"Hmm. Huh...It must be an acquired taste then."

England was still staring at himself and pulled at his hair. "I can't believe I wasted all of that potion!"

"I never told you to take it. I don't even know why you'd use your magic for something like that anyway."

I got up from my chair. England's clothes rematerialized on his body. That was a shame.

"Can't you give me a hint?"

"We'll, acting like me is going to get you nowhere," I said. "If I was that turned on by me, why would I need you?"

"I guess I was just trying to act like the most seductive person I knew," England said thoughtfully. He suddenly had an idea. "Come on!"

I followed him to this great hall. It was like some sort of fencing arena. I swear, he had a room for practically anything, but didn't have space for a decent closet. He grabbed two foils and handed one to me.

"En garde, you frog!" He smirked.

I smiled a bit in return. It had been centuries since our old fighting days. I almost missed the times when we were physically at each others throats. I wondered if he would let up since now he knew I was a girl.

"Whatever you say, mon cher mouton noir."

We attacked and parried like all those years ago when war was simple and honorable. I felt elated at this attack of nostalgia. England looked like he was enjoying himself as well.

We still seemed to be on equal grounds, though I wasn't as strong as a girl. I was a bit faster in my dodging and attacks. When England wasn't paying attention, I got a hit in.

"Better not let your mind wander, black sheep of Europe."

"Sorry, I was just thinking whether it would turn you on more if I won or lost," he said cheekily.

"I really don't think you'll have much of a choice, sweetie."

Since I couldn't touch him, I used my foil to trip him up. He fell on his back with a thud. I stood over him and traced an x over his lips with the point of my sword to replace a kiss.

I went to go put my foil away, and suddenly, England's foil was forced into the wall by my head. He always had been a such sore loser. His arm slammed on the other side of me. He was trying to block my way. I turned around so that I was actually facing him. He looked pretty angry. He didn't even have to say anything, but I knew that he was just frustrated that none of what he was doing seemed to be working.

I stuck my tongue out at him and dipped down under the sword side. If he wanted any action, he'd just have to wait until midnight.

* * *

For the rest of the day, there weren't any more blatant attempts of England trying to woo me. He just stared at me, contemplating what his next move should be. I carried on my day like I usually did: cooking, making clothes, planning Poland's wedding, drinking a glass of wine, strolling in the rose garden. As evening approached, England grew more and more anxious and nervous.

I was all ready for bed. The obnoxious clock read 11:58. I only had to hold out for two more minutes. I had gotten out volume three of England's letters to me and was reading one of the entries. England practically looked like he would explode, but I chose to ignore him.

He grabbed the book from my hands. "I swear to god, if you don't touch me I will burn this. I'll burn all of them."

He must have gotten terribly desperate if he was going to threaten me like this.

"If you really want to, I suppose it's fine. I do have you now. The brilliant beautiful mind behind it all. You know I'll just be expecting 30,000 more letters, right?"

England couldn't stay angry at that. His frown resisted but slowly turned up in a tiny smile. "You really are a handful. So selfish. Love isn't supposed to be so selfish, you know."

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth to be a liar;

But never doubt I love," I quoted from one of his letters.

The clock started to chime twelve times. I had done it. I had lasted all the way till midnight. I expected England to come to me right away. He seemed to ignore the clock. As if the time was meaningless. As if he wanted to sincerely seduce me.

He propped himself above me. "In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you," he repeated quotations back to me.

I shivered. It was unbearable. I wanted to reach out for him but was immobilized from hearing these words from the letters come to life from England's lips. He made them so much more intense. There was such power and love in the words spoken. I gasped and could feel me face grow hot from pleasure.

He could tell what this had done to me. He grinned and brought his lips closer to my ear. He whispered gently, "My heart is, and always will be, yours."

My body practically moved on its own. Every cell wanted to bind England to me. My legs wrapped around him, forcing him to fall on top of me. My arms went under his and clung to his shoulders as if my very existence depended on it. My stomach was pressed up against his. He groaned as my lips finally found his. It had seemed like an eternity since we indulged in this pleasure.

Although we seemed inseparable, we didn't stay like this for long. We allowed just a few centimeters for a few moments for England to take his clothes off. We allowed even less for him to take off mine. All of our love could not possibly be contained in this one night, but oh boy, did we try.

* * *

I had slept so much better. My arms were wrapped around the same naked England, and the world was right and beautiful.

I gently kissed his lips again and again until his green eyes opened. He held me tighter and kissed me back slow and sweet and lazy.

He smiled. "You sure seem happy for a loser," England said in his low morning voice.

What did he mean by loser? I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. "Okay, I'll bite. What do you mean by that?"

He grinned. "That clock over there is an hour fast."

It took a while for me to process that. That would mean that it was before midnight when I had kissed him.

I threw my pillow in his face. "You dirty little cheat! You woke me up at seven AM yesterday, you jackass!"

He used the pillow to pin me to the bed. "All's fair in love and war," he quoted. I shivered and he tenderly kissed the crook of my neck.

He laughed a bit to himself. "After all that trouble, it was this easy to turn you on."

"Oh, everything you did turned me on. I just have more experience controlling myself than you." I laughed reminiscing of yesterday. "I can't believe you actually said that you would get me wet! You are such a pervert!"

"I think we've just established that we're both perverts." He kissed me. "Now lets go get you dressed."

And I thought I took a long time to get ready. I had probably gone through 50 outfits, and England still couldn't decide what I should wear. I had tried on everything from suits to sweatpants. Now I was even wearing some of England's stuff.

"How's this?" I modeled for England.

He contemplated for a bit. "Nope, still too sexy."

I sighed. "Well England, what do you expect me to do? It's not like I can turn the sexiness off."

"Here." He walked back into the room that was my closet and handed me a little black number. "Wear this."

I recognized it instantly. It was the little maid's outfit from one of his strange fantasies. I guess that meant I was staying home again today. "You know, I still think you're a bigger pervert than I am."

England didn't confirm or deny the statement. He just held me close and kissed me. None of it mattered anyway. All that mattered to either of us was the love we had for each other. No petty word would ever be able to defeat that.**  
**

** AN: *sniff, sniff* It's finally all over. It's been lovely writing Not Really a Tomato Box Fairytale for all of you. Be sure to review, so I can know how much you loved it! Oh, and the seriously last full Tomato Box Fairytale story will be coming to you soon! I think I'll call it A Completely Original Opium Box Fairytale. It'll be a RoChu! Thank you for all your support and love! You have no idea how much it means to me!**


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